Magic

Christmas is a fantastical time of year.  The sights, smells and sounds of the season abound from the moment the Thanksgiving turkey hits the table until after the New Years Day Bowl Games end.  Other holidays light up or go boom or smell great, but there’s something unique about the ubiquity of it all during the Christmas season.  It’s glorious.  

As a parent, I see the magic of the season through the eyes of my children. One child checks each light before it goes on the tree while another perfectly places each sprinkle on the gingerbread men.  One child carries his Christmas list around as if it were the key to unlocking some ancient secret while another turns on the TV for the never-ending string of classics.  

As a parent, I also appreciate the effort that goes into making magic.  Gingerbread men don’t just appear.  I see the intentionality with which my bride ensures each child (and I) receive something special.  

My children are at the age when questions arise.  The curtain that opens to Santa and his sleigh each year suddenly shows the glimmer of feet scurrying underneath moments before.  The snowfall on the tree mimicking 'A White Christmas' must now be cleaned up as part of their weekly chores.  

Some of my kids are asking more questions than others.  Some are finding answers while others simply find more questions.  It’s the space between — the ‘liminal space’ between magic reindeer and matching bunny pajamas. 

So what do we as parents do in this liminal space.  My bride, in her wisdom implored us to dig deeper.  Christmas is magical because there’s a story that explains the consistently impossible.  As light is shone into different parts of the story, the real work of magic begins.  It’s when the curtain begins to fall that we need the magic the most.  

That was her criteria for gift-giving this year: ‘it must be magical.’  It was certainly easier to hide behind the story of Santa, but now we work.  We create magic in the details and in the thoughtfulness of knowing each child and what he wants. We stay up late and get up early, we cash in date night for wrapping presents and stir the pot of wonder.

Marriage is like this — the early years are full of fantasy and newness and a fully integrated story (however fantastic); then the work begins.  The sleigh breaks down and the reindeer pooped on the carpet again.  

Yet, like Santa, the real magic happens on the other side of the work.  

The magic happens in helping my bride realize her dreams.  

The magic happens in doing the work between dates to be present over dinner.  

The magic happens in stocking favorite treats. 

The magic happens in the comfort of familiar traditions.  

I’m thankful for the magic of moments…all of them.