That Podcast in Hutch - Christmas
Listeners share their Christmas stories, memories, and traditions
I’m sometimes prone to doing things on a whim.
Around Thanksgiving, I asked readers and listeners to submit the reasons they are thankful. They didn’t disappoint. I received a number of comments, and read them for the Thanksgiving edition of That Podcast in Hutch.
As we approached Christmas, I wanted to do something similar, but not the same. So I set up a makeshift recording studio at Crow & Co Bookstore and Cafe, and asked people to come share their favorite Christmas stories, memories, or traditions.
Again, I was happily surprised, capturing about ten stories in the two hours I set up for recording. I can’t begin to tell you all how happy it makes me that you’ll support my eccentric and unusual ideas. Thank you!
Thanks to you, I was able to record some really compelling and interesting stories. And I now get to share them with others.
I have to tell you all a few things -
First, I had a blast recording these live. I’m going to think of more ways to do this sort of thing. And I hope you’ll keep playing along.
Beings that this was an experiment of sorts, I need to warn you that there’s a lot of background noise. It doesn’t bother me, but it might bother some of you. Personally, I like it - it reminds me that we’re in a place with other people, who are doing things, and I think it adds some charm to the recordings.
These stories are authentic, from people who felt compelled to share them, and to me they bring a lot of meaning to the discussion about Christmas. I hope it does the same for you.
I’ll end with a few sappy thoughts about Christmas, and the larger holiday season in general, before turning you lose on what I see as a very special episode.
“Shameless self promotion - Did you know that you can gift a subscription to anyone you want? It’s like a gift card that keeps pays out a little every week. Except that this gift card won’t get lost or forgotten in the nether reaches of some drawer - and it will help keep this content coming. Maybe you know someone who doesn’t know what they’re missing. Maybe you think someone could benefit from a subscription. Or maybe you want to support a fledgling start-up, and know someone who is too polite to say they don’t appreciate your gift. Whatever your reason, it’s a good time - with only days before Christmas - to consider the gift of information and conversations with interesting people.”
As I recorded these Christmas stories, most centered on the themes of family, love, hope, light, and appreciation for the sense of belonging we enjoy at Christmas, and throughout the year.
But I think it’s important to remember that for the many of us who enjoy these uplifting feelings during this time of year, there are people who feel exactly the opposite. While for us Christmas is a time of appreciation for the love we have, or the love we can share, for them, it is a reminder of loss, of sadness, or of a sense of emptiness and loneliness.
I’m not trying to be a buzzkill here, but I think it’s important to keep a full perspective. For a lot of people Christmas is one of the most difficult times of year. (Though it’s a myth that the Christmas season is the top season for suicide - it’s actually the Spring months). The marketing machine surrounding the holiday tells people that if they don’t have a gaggle of family around them, with mountains of food, served in nicely adorned house, with tons of gifts under the tree - they are doing Christmas wrong.
I’ve had moments in my life where Christmas wasn’t all that fun. And I’ll never forget the way those felt. I know others who have felt that before as well.
What I heard from most people was the idea that Christmas is at it’s core a sense of hope, and of light. That no matter how dark the world might seem, there is always hope that things will get better - that someday it won’t seem so dark and hopeless. But I also heard that what creates that hopeful light is people - their love, and ours.
Each of us is that light, and that love, for someone. We owe it to ourselves and to others to keep trying to shine out that light as much as we can. To let people know they are loved. To let them know they matter to us. And to make sure they understand that no matter how dark things might seem in any given moment, there can be hope.
My Mom has this silly Happy Apple that she keeps on her shelf. I sometimes think it’s among her prized possessions - and she protects it with an unusual ferocity. She sets it out every Christmas, right alongside all her other Christmas decorations.
And she has this story about when I was a baby, not even a year old, on my first Christmas. Our family didn’t have any money. They cut down some scraggly tree alongside the river, and they couldn’t really afford gifts. But they scrounged around and managed to buy this Fischer Price Happy Apple, which is nothing but a piece of painted plastic that will fall over and return to it’s upright position every time. (Vintage editions of this toy sell for between $12-$14 online, so I can’t imagine it was more than few dollars when I was a baby).
“Don’t ever get rid of this,” my mom says. “It’s the only present we could give you on your first Christmas. It’s all we could afford. But you loved it, and would play with it and laugh for hours.”
I think for my mom that toy apple stands in two worlds - between the memory of what was, and the hope of what would be.
My mom will die someday. And I won’t get rid of that toy; I’ll put it somewhere in my house, and I’ll remember. And I’ll tell my grandchildren about that story, too.
Christmas doesn’t have to be much, at least not in the material sense. But it can be everything in every other way.
We can be kind. And we can care. We can share a smile or a kind word. Or some other random act of kindness. We can invite someone to our house for dinner, or we can hand a card, or a heartfelt letter, a pleasant word, to someone who needs lifting. And we can live the spirit of Christmas throughout the year.
I sometimes get irritated with the commercial juggernaut Christmas has become. Then I try to remember what Christmas really is: The spirit of community - and the sense that we all have something hard to get through - and that with each other, and our shared love and humanity, it might not be so bad. In fact, it might be good.
Throughout the years, so many of you have been kind and supportive, and even indulgent, of my dreams and ideas. I don’t know if you’ll ever really know what that’s meant to me. You’ve helped make me feel like my life had some extra meaning and purpose, and I can’t thank you enough for that. And I hope, in some way, I can have the chance to do that for you, too.
No matter where you are or what you’re doing this Christmas, I hope that you know love. That you know there are people who care about you. And that you see the light that lies ahead for all of us.
Merry Christmas.
To listen to this extra special Christmas episode, subscribe to That Podcast in Hutch at Salt City Sound or on your favorite podcast streaming service.
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Merry Christmas Jason!!!! Hope to meet you one day