Despite circumstances, Christmas was the happiest time of the year for us.

Christmas is a season of the year that signifies good will, good tidings, and great joy, and whether you believe in the story of the baby Jesus, the wise men, and a virgin Mary, Christmas is the happiest time of the year for most of us because it inspires us to give and become better human beings, at least for this brief moment in time.

Despite the naysayers, non-believers, and negative thinkers, we need holidays like Christmas. Christmas is a time of joy, giving, and celebration. It is a time for making memories that last a lifetime, and it is a time for family and friends to acknowledge and support one another. I don't know if I believe in the wise men or the immaculate conception, but I believe in the spirit of giving and celebration. I believe in the perpetuation of hope and joyfulness on this planet, if only for one month.

When I was a child, Christmas was the most important day of the year. On Christmas eve, sometimes we waited until late evening for our mother to arrive and announce an arrangement for someone to deliver or for us to pick up a tree at the end of the day, a time when no more last-minute sales were predicted and merchants were willing to negotiate a bargain for leftover trees.

By the time our mother arrived home, the house was sparkling clean, and the Christmas tree ornaments had been meticulously arranged in a box on the floor, waiting for a miracle. We knew there might not be a tree, but we always hoped and prayed there would be. 

Our mother would arrive home exhausted from a hard day of working a job or two, and we would greet her happily. She would turn on the stereo and put on a Christmas album by Elvis or a collection that included "Little Drummer Boy," by Andy Williams. Then, she would deliver the news: "Mrs. Bowie is gonna go pick up our tree." We'd burst into screams of joy then sit on the floor or on the couch and wait for the doorbell to ring. "Brinnnnng!" was the most beautiful sound in the entire world, and for once during the year,
Mr. Bowie, our neighbor,  looked handsome, sober, and happy to be of service to someone.