The Savior became a man, the baby was born under the star of Bethlehem, to whom rulers and simple shepherds came to worship following the divine sign. Christmas is for everyone, rich and poor alike. Christmas is a gift to humanity.
What lofty thoughts, aren't they? Now, as an old man, these are the things that really concern me, but I haven't forgotten how different my mind was as a child. What does Jesus bring me? And how do you get it? How do angels decorate the Christmas tree and why can't we see them?
I remember how happy we were to run up the stairs when, on our way home from school, we saw from the street that the angels had flown the pine tree onto our balcony. Because it was just a pine then, but it already carried the hope of a Christmas tree. I don't forget how my father soldered the burners for days, because for a long time we didn't have "factory" festive lighting.
For me, Christmas also smells like solder and resin.
I remember how the angel walked up and up the paper ladder with a snail's pace, indicating that Christmas Eve was approaching. How horrified we were to find that if we misbehaved, the angel moved down a rung, but as we grew up, this excited us less and less, because we knew that the next day he would jump two steps ahead. Christmas Eve will definitely come.
For me, the hope of Christmas is also promised to the angels.
I will never forget that two of my sisters diligently researched where Jesus could put our presents before Christmas, because he can't bring everything with him at once, right? If he came across it one by one, he knocked it out very wisely. The gift didn't have any room left until the next day.
For me, Christmas is also about secrets.
I can still smell the intoxicating smell of freshly baked bagels. As a child, poppy seeds were my favorite, today I go for walnuts. In vain, people change with age - but not much. A bagel is a bagel.
I don't have Christmas without bagels.
We used to ask not whether Christmas will be white, but whether it is possible to go sledding, or if the snow is even bigger, and instead of playing with snowballs, you have to shovel the snow.
For years, I have really missed the sight of the tree line dressed in white, the snow carpet covering the street thickly. But I'd love to shovel it!
I remember morning mass, which we really didn't like as children, because we had to get up early. The only thing that comforted us was that we could go to the other side of the city by sledge (because of my father's profession, we had to hide our faith, we couldn't even go to religious studies, the father gave us secret religious lessons at home), and after the mass we could still slide for a while on the slopes of Tabán.
For me, Christmas also means morning mass.
Even today, when my grandchildren listen excitedly, when the angel wings rustle, when the gift packages rattle behind the closed door, a pleasant tickling sensation arises in the region of my stomach and the childish feeling of wonder comes back to me.
For me, Christmas also means waiting for a miracle.
I think I can also see the sparkle of the sparklers and I can hear the joyous melody of the angel from Heaven. It's true, it's not just a scary memory from the past, my family still sings it today - but rather just hums it, because singing together somehow makes them tense. It's okay, as they get older, their voices will come. Because I remember, it was cool for us to sing loudly too...
For me, Christmas does mean that the angel came down to us from heaven and the Savior was born, who accepted death on the cross for us for the forgiveness of our sins.
And I remember with what boundless desire we hoped that one day we would see the angels decorating the Christmas tree and meet Jesus bringing gifts. Later we doubted whether they really exist and whether we really receive the gifts from Jesus.
I don't doubt it anymore. Yes, we are gifted by the incarnate son of the Creator God, and it is thanks to him alone that we have access to the goods that we can bring joy to our children, grandchildren, and loved ones.
And I know, yes, we saw angels in our childhood, we just didn't notice them. We didn't realize it was them.
Our parents, grandparents.
Author: György Tóth Jr
Front page photo: Christmas decorations at the Children's Christmas organized at Duna-ház in Torockó on December 15, 2024.
MTI/Gábor Kiss
