Columbus will produce with 1492 partners Michael Barnathan and Mark Radcliffe. Columbus will write the script solo or invite another screenwriter to work with him. Cain's River - A Blog By Jed Cain. It is two days before Christmas, and I cannot help but feel like Christmas has been warped, and like I am warping it for my children. Everywhere I turn, the emphasis has shifted to commercial concerns, and away from the true ideals and magic which Christmas used to embody for me as a child, growing up. The timeless Christmas spirit has been supplanted by acquiring more STUFF, giving presents that no one actually needs, and portraying wealth or happiness on social media. As a mother of small children, I feel like all I do during the month of December is try to incentivize good behavior for one month out of the year via tools like the elf on the shelf, or Santa Claus “apps”. I feel like I am not teaching my children what Christmas is actually supposed to feel like. To quote Cindy Lou Who from the Grinch (the Jim Carrey version): “Where are you Christmas? Why have you gone away?”I think one of the reasons that true Christmas spirit seems so elusive to today’s families is that the time honored Christmas rituals which emphasized family time, giving, generosity, and holiness, have been increasingly replaced by social media inspired commercial traditions and the Christmas “commercial enterprise” (Black Friday, Cyber Monday), all facilitated by modern day technology. I would give up anything to be able to recreate some of my childhood Christmases growing up in New York City, the child of divorced, middle- class parents. My mom (a single mom from when I was 6 years old until I graduated from high school), did a fabulous job of making Christmas warmly memorable and inspirational. Our Christmas ritual started with the purchase of our family Christmas tree. My younger brother, my mom and I would walk about a half a mile to 1. Street and Broadway’s Christmas tree “lot”, where a completely toothless woman named Molly from Vermont wearing cut- off gloves and severely calloused hands would show us her Christmas trees and ultimately sell us one. These New York City Christmas tree “lots” look a lot like this: Molly would wrap the tree in twine, and we would lay it on its side on the concrete sidewalk. Then each of us would stick a gloved hand through the branches to grasp the trunk. We would carry it the half- mile home, through the blinding freezing New York City wind, like this: Our doorman would meet us at the steps of our walk- up apartment, and help us get it in the elevator, leaving a trail of Christmas tree needles in the elevator and the hallway to our third story apartment. Search the history of over 505 billion pages on the Internet. Design Ikonik est la boutique en ligne de r. Cain's River is devoted to small town story telling. It's an outlet for the personal and professional observations of a husband, father, and trial lawyer. Once inside, we would decorate our tree to the sound of Christmas music playing on the record player and make Christmas cookies. We would read the Polar Express on the living room couch (long after we stopped believing in Santa). A few days later, we would go to a beautiful Christmas choral service at our local church, St.
John the Divine Cathedral. As a child I remember feeling a lump in my throat as I was moved to tears by the beauty of the choir’s Christmas carols, and the excitement of the season. On Christmas morning, we would open presents. And a few years, my mom basically dragged us to a nursing home to sing Christmas carols to the elderly residents. I never wanted to do it – seeing the older people always made me feel uncomfortable and sad, and I distinctly recall glancing over at my mom’s tear- stained face mid- caroling session, knowing that she felt the same way. Still, the elderly residents, even those with advanced Alzheimer’s disease, somehow knew all the words to many of the famous Christmas carols. I guess the brain always remembers those timeless songs, even when it can no longer recall the face or identity of loved ones. Now 3. 4 years old, and a mother of three small children myself, I can hardly recall a single present I received for Christmas as a child. Yet I remember the Christmas rituals like they were yesterday, and I remember with startling vividness the caroling – the feeling that Christmas was not just about presents and receiving rewards. These are memories that seem indelibly burned into my brain, leaving imprints on my inner soul. I guess in reality my mom instilled in me the real “reason for the season” – gratitude, family, love, prayer, generosity, and that indescribably “magic” feeling. Why then, am I so hard on myself about Christmas now that I am a mother of three small children of my own? I don’t think I’m alone. I have these expectations and they seem like they’re never met. I cannot help but feel like I’m somehow falling short every Christmas. Christmas is full of distractions now. Christmas is no longer a private special experience among immediate close family – it’s shared with the world. Wherever you live, whether it be a small rural town, a suburb, or a large city, Christmas is different. There is just so much more that’s expected of parents and families to make Christmas Christmas that’s acceptable these days.
0 Kommentare
Hinterlasse eine Antwort. |
AutorSchreiben Sie etwas über sich. Es muss nichts ausgefallenes sein, nur ein kleiner Überblick. Archiv
Januar 2017
Kategorien |