UN-DECORATING FOR CHRISTMAS

The famed above-kitchen-sink "toe"

A family tradition as the calendar turned to “December” was retrieving our family's Christmas décor for its brief holiday “run.” That included the bin of wreaths and garlands, a long string of lights, the 40-year-old childproof creche, fireplace socks, and the fake Christmas tree and ornaments. I didn't have to hang the mistletoe: it was a year-round decoration on the ceiling above the kitchen sink.

But that was years ago. With nest-emptying and aging, and now a grandkid-toys-and-books “decor” cluttering our small home, my holiday decorating fervor faded. Last year I put up only the door wreath, creche and two socks—“mine” and “his.” My husband had only one wish on his “wish list”--to come home from the hospital after his heart attack. And he did—on Christmas afternoon.

I can't remember, but we may have shared a “welcome-back” kiss at the kitchen sink, under a sprig of mistletoe tacked there forty-some years earlier. Okay, when I was silly new bride, it was a reminder that “kissin' don't last, cookin' do.” Marrying (for the first and only time) in our mid-thirties, we had some catching up to do in that department.

With his death early this summer, I needed to make some changes. So the mistletoe came down. But not before I did a little research about this strange little “kissing” custom that seems highlighted every holiday. The brutal truth: mistletoe is a parasitic plant that latches onto a host plant and sucks the life out of it. Not very romantic! Mistletoe berries are also toxic—even can be deadly—if eaten. (That's why you never see “mistletoe jam” sold at Christmas!) In some pagan cultures, mistletoe was connected with human sacrifice. Folks in some ancient lands hung mistletoe over their doors to ward off demonic influences.

To all this, I say, “Oh, my.” I was way, way overdue to remove that ribbon-tied, withered sprig from our ceiling.

Enter new traditions. Like reaching out in quiet, small ways to those who mourn. I was touched when another recent widow started sending me 3x5 cards on which she'd printed encouraging Bible verses that were apparently meaningful to her in her loss. I clipped them to a stand below my computer screen. Four months after the flood of post-death sympathy cards, I was also encouraged by simple notes that said, “Still praying for you.” Trust me: at holidays, the grieving especially need gentle hugs and kind words,

Christmas can be such a hectic, even garish, time--hard for those pummeled by loss to endure. It's okay to counter the culture and simplify, to focus on the Light of the World more than the thousand-lights-Santa-manger yard setups.

Jesus' birth wasn't heralded by a searchlight guzzling 60,000 watts of electrical power. Heaven sent its own signal, enough for grubby, uneducated shepherds to discover the Greatest Gift. There was no mistletoe over the manger. But in that rough, manure-aroma stable, the world was kissed with God's love. We couldn't ask for anything more....