Visiting The Spirit of Christmas Past

   Christmas 2020 is in our rear view mirrors. A dastardly assault on our Democracy looms large in our headlights. And, seniors trampling one another for vaccine appointments, is lurking around the next curve on the 2021 Highway.

   So much tumult, so much stress, that I jolt out of bed each morning, heart racing, bracing for another sucker punch. Amidst such a bleak landscape, my naturally upbeat nature has taken me on a sentimental journey to visit a kinder, gentler time that has brought me comfort and I hope it will resonate with you too.

   It was December, 1984. I was about to celebrate my one year anniversary on the Bench. Bill and I had just decided to put our lives together, creating a blended family in Lombard Mews.

   Sitting among piles of boxes---some coming in need of space, others going to make room, Bill, who is Episcopalian, asked a question he had been pondering:

   ”Christmas is coming”, he noted. ”So, I was wondering how you would feel about us getting a Christmas tree.”

   ”Gulp!”, I managed to respond.

   You see, I am Jewish and I had never had a Christmas tree. Not that I had never thought about getting one.

   As a child I was mesmerized by the gaily decorated houses in our neighborhood, especially the massive, sparkling trees adorning living rooms up and down our block. As we were one of the few Jewish families in East Camden, NJ back then, there was a dearth of Chanukah Lights. So, on Christmas morning I would awake and run into our living room convinced that this year there would be a tree. But, of course, there was not.

   When I was seven we moved to a predominantly Jewish neighborhood and my Christmas dreams were forgotten---until now.

   ”Well, I said, ”I would have to ask the children. But, of course, I will think about it.”

   Thinking about it brought some unique problems. First, Deb and David were in school at Akiba Hebrew Academy; not necessarily because it was a fine institution (which it was); not necessarily because we were observant Jews (which we were not). Rather, it was because Philadelphia had recently gone through three very disruptive teachers’ strikes. After two years of trying to home school my kids during two strikes while working full time and watching their elementary school faculty wax and wane during contentious negotiations during the third one, I decided my commitment to public education was harming, not helping my children. So, I gave up. I applied to every private school in the area and, since it was already August, Akiba was the only school that would even interview them for September admission (probably because I begged, pleaded and cried a lot). All in all it turned out to be a very good decision. They both thrived in Akiba’s academic environment and thus, they stayed.

   I broached the Christmas tree subject with trepidation which turned out to be very well founded.

   ”What? NO!”, they cried almost in unison. ”We’re Jewish. We don’t want a tree. If the tree comes we go!”

   That got my blood boiling.

   ”Wait a minute, ” I sputtered. ”You’re right. We’re Jewish and because of that we have spent the last 5,000 years trying to make the rest of the world let us celebrate our holidays in peace. We can celebrate Chanukah any way we want in America today. Jews in Russia aren’t so lucky. So where do we get off telling Bill he can’t celebrate his holiday the way he wants in our house? This would not be our tree. It would be Bill’s tree, as long as we give him permission to put it up here.”

   That tirade was met with silence. Then Deb, the big sister, said: ”ok, we’ll talk about it and get back to you.”

   Two tense days later they finally responded. Deb led off: ”We talked about it, ” she said. ”And, as long as it’s not our tree, we’re ok with it.”

   Then the questions came. Could they help Bill pick out his tree? I said he would be delighted if they came along. Did Bill have ornaments for his tree? I said I didn’t think so. Well, could they buy him some ornaments? I said ok, knowing whose budget this was going to crunch. Finally came the blockbuster. It seems they had shared their Christmas tree dilemma with their school friends, who had expressed a desire to help Bill decorate his tree. Could all of their friends come along to help? For this I did not have a ready answer.

I called Akiba’s principal and he arranged a meeting with some of the kids’ teachers and their friends’ parents. To my great surprise, the group was totally enthusiastic. Individually and, evidently collectively, they had decided decorating Bill’s tree would be a good lesson on religious freedom and interfaith cooperation.

   With permission granted by my kids and Akiba Hebrew Academy, Bill, me, Deb, David and Bill’s son, Jeremy, set off to Wanamaker’s department store for a fantastical shopping spree. We bought ornaments galore---a full set of historic Santa Clauses, an entire miniature Dickens village, multiple Disney characters as well as a score of hand blown glass figurines at the instance of my ”artsy” daughter.

    Of course, buying ornaments took second stage to choosing THE TREE. We strolled over to the Italian Market and window shopped Christmas trees twice before returning to actually select THE ONE. It was tall, stately, and shaped almost like a perfect triangle. We all agreed THE TREE belonged on a holiday card. Best of all, the store delivered which turned out to be a good thing because when they brought THE TREE inside, it was too tall to stand upright in our living room and had to have its trunk cut. Still, it looked majestic.

   On Christmas Eve the Akiba kids came, twenty plus strong, carrying everything they had ever seen or heard about that belonged on a Christmas tree---tinsel, popcorn and cranberry strings, bows, multi-colored lights, shiny balls and, of course, a glittery angel to adorn the top. Everyone got a turn to hang his or her contributions on THE TREE.

   Not all went well. There were some serious disagreements on where certain ornaments belonged. There were some squabbles when those at the end of the line insisted on hanging each and every item they had brought even when there appeared to be no more branches on which to hang them. There were some anxious moments when THE TREE began to bend under the weight of all our holiday splendor. However, in the end, we all agreed on one thing---THE TREE looked MAGNIFICENT!!!

   That was Bill’s first Lombard Mews Christmas tree but it was certainly not his last. The Akiba kids came back every year, even after they were no longer high school kids, but rather, college men and women. For them, decorating Bill’s tree was not only a very special tradition, but also, a recognition of the importance of respecting and celebrating our differences.

   David said it best in the essay he wrote for his college applications. He wrote how his initial reluctance to have a Christmas tree was overshadowed by his realization that our Constitution guaranteed Bill the freedom to celebrate his religious holiday in peace. He ended the essay with this observation:

   ”On Christmas morning when I came down the stairs, the tree looked as beautiful as I always knew it would be.”

   From David’s commentary and my childhood memories, I make this observation. No matter what our religious persuasions, no matter what our ages, there may be a little Christmas tree in all of us.