I think we’ve lost Christmas,
and we are trying to find it
under and around glitzy trees.
We look for it
in the frenzy of the mall
in the flurry of decorations
in the “find time for parties” anxiety.
It eludes us
in our search for the perfect gift
in our obsession with sappy movies
in our longing for the past.
We send greetings we don’t feel.
We eat cookies we don’t need.
We buy gifts no one wants.
What has happened to Christmas?
Where is the quiet, dark night,
a mother giving birth
a father, anxious for their safety,
watching at the doorway of the stable,
with a cow lending heat
a star looking down
and the miracle of life before our eyes.
Can we find Christmas again,
wrapped in swaddling clothes
and lying in a manger?
Then, perhaps, we will be able to say,
like Linus did,
“That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”