Making Headway

A few posts ago I shared with you my attempt to explain Christmas to a two year old. She looked and I thought she listened but really she was more interested in making pee pee in the potty.

I refused to give up hope. I will help her understand Christmas. I played the stories over in my head. They went a little something like this.

Many years ago a virgin gave birth to a baby. He grew up to be our Lord and Savior. On Christmas we celebrate his birth and Weeeeeee get to have presents.

Hmmmm. Let's try again.

Once a year we get to celebrate Christmas. You will get lots of presents but only if you are a perfect child all year long. They will be given to you by a fat man in a bad suit. You must make a list and take it to this man. He is at the mall. You will sit on his lap and tell him what you want. You will probably cry but you must have your picture taken, damnit. After you tell him what you want he will have his little elves make it for you. While you are sleeping he will sneak into our house and fill your stocking with treats and give you tons and tons and tons of toys.But the real meaning of Christmas is Jesus.

I've begun to realize that the reason I cannot explain it to Isis is because I'm not sure it's possible in this day and age and consumer culture to truly capture it. I almost crapped my pants the day after Halloween when I saw a Christmas commercial and realized we had skipped right over the thankful holiday and jumped straight to the gimme one.

So I decided to stop with the meaning and start with the characters. I placed a small nativity set under the Christmas tree. As Isis showed interest, we would play with the characters. She loved the animals and baby Jesus. One day she came out of her bedroom commanding me to shush. I opened her door to find the Angel laying in the center of her pillow listening to lullabies. She slowly began to learn the names of Mary and Joseph and a wise man she named Michael. We looked at the present in Michael's hands.

Last Saturday we had our family Christmas. We opened the last day of her advent calendar and talked about how today is Baby Jesus' birthday. She told me she wanted to share her toys with Him. I stopped breathing for a second at the pure innocence and pureness of the thought.

We opened our stockings then went to the kitchen for our breakfast of cinnamon buns and hot chocolate. We sang Happy Birthday to Jesus...

Then we went back into the living room and Isis got naked and opened gifts...

Last night as we sat down for dinner we asked Isis what song we should pray. She suggested Happy Birthday Baby Jesus. Of course, we all know how much she loves this song. But it hit me how incredibly appropriate this little prayer was. And I realized we had gone from making pee pee in the potty, to truly celebrating the reason. And I realized that Isis had given me the greatest possible gift. Understanding. It wasn't as complicated as I had made it out to be. It didn't involve trees, or presents, or a creepy fat man. It's a birthday party. Something every child understands. So let's get singing...