Kids are almost bursting with anticipation these days. Adults do rarely – our lightheartedness has often been taken over by stress and anxiety as to how the holidays will pass. Pass, indeed, not be enjoyed. There are so many aspects of what we fear – imperfection of the setting, imperfection of human relationships, imperfection of what we are able to give. Maybe, we should try and revert to our childhood memories when there was so much innocence involved in our expectations of Christmas. When there was still the magic of closed doors and waiting for Santa or the Christ child. When secrecy and tradition made up for what we would now perceive as maybe humbler gifts and a less elaborate orchestration. Maybe, we simply create our own new habits that take off a load of having to feel measured by old ones that don’t feel like ourselves. In that we avoid any expectations at all. Because sometimes surprises are simply the best.
