Christmas was nice. I come from a very small family. I have no brothers or sisters, but I first had Christmas with my wife and daughter and as my daughter ripped open her presents with unwitting delight I had a feeling that I was a father and that being a father was in itself a gift. Then we went to my mother's place and opened presents there. The candle burning on the dining table was for my father to show he was there in our minds at least. Finally we went to my brother-in-law's new house. It was a good day. His wife looked after us generously. For me, the most devout of atheists, at the time of Christmas I think of Jesus, which is pretty odd really - for an athiest. But then it's at Christmaas that you tend to notice the difference between a bum wandering around Israel with only the clothes on his back telling people to love one another, and the rampant consumerism of the modern Christmas. This is a cliched thought that occurs to me every year. It is comforting to have recourse to cliche.
No comments:
Post a Comment