Mommy, can we get a Christmas tree? Asked me my then-4 year old son.
Seemingly a simple question, but I’ve been dreading it since my son was born.
I was born and raised in Israel. As a kid, I used to watch on TV the Christians arriving at their churches in Jerusalem and Bethlehem for services. That was the only exposure to Christians I had in Israel. No Christmas tree, no presents, no Santa Clause… when I came to the US in my early twenties, I was astonished and amazed as I went through the Holiday season. Nothing I had known before had prepared me for it. The constant flow of chocolates and cookies at the insurance company I used to work for, the shopping craze, the parties, the colorful displays of Christmas trees everywhere, Santa clause in every store, and of course the “camaraderie” atmosphere of everyone around me. Everybody celebrated Christmas. Or at least so it seemed. It was everywhere. You couldn’t avoid it. You couldn’t hide from it. But at the same time – I couldn’t participate in all of it either. I did go to a party or two but still, it just wasn’t my holiday. I went through different stages over the years. At first I felt extremely uneasy when people said to me “Merry Christmas”. Everybody just assumed, or took it for granted, that you’re “one of them” – either Christian or Catholic or any other denomination that celebrated the birth of Jesus.
I felt the need to “fight back” – or I would be betraying myself, my parents, my identity. I used to reply – “I’m Jewish, I don’t celebrate Christmas” and watch their expression turned into amazement mixed with pity as they mumbled: “oh, sorry…” as if it had never occurred to them that there are people who didn’t celebrate Christmas. I always thought they felt sorry for me for not celebrating Christmas – almost like a flicker of a thought went through their mind of what would their lives be without Christmas. An unbearable thought… And then there were those who said it in a way of “oh, excuse mmmeee! I didn’t realize I was offending you by wishing you Merry Christmas!”
As the years went by and I got more acclimated to the Christmas season, I started participating (and even enjoying) some of the festivities. I no longer felt the need to “fight back”, but I was still an outsider looking in. it still wasn’t my holiday.
When my son was born I started celebrating more of the Jewish holidays. Growing up in a Jewish state, I didn’t have to do anything in particular to celebrate the holidays. It was everywhere. Everyone around me were Jewish. But here it was different. I actually had to do something to actively celebrate being Jewish. I used to think that the freedom of religion included the freedom to not be religious. But when my son was born I wanted him to have a sense of religion, and naturally, it had to be Judaism. We started lighting the Menorah on Hanukkah and celebrating Passover with the traditional dinner.
One day my son came home from pre-school singing “Jingle Bells”. He was 4 years old and it was the week before Christmas. And then came the dreaded question – “can we have a Christmas tree?”. It was time for “the talk” – no, not the one about the birds and the bees, the one about a thing called “religion”. I sat him down and explained to him that we don’t celebrate Christmas because we’re Jewish. We celebrate Hanukkah instead. We light the menorah and sing Hanukkah songs instead of decorating a tree and singing Christmas songs. It was a confusing subject for a 4 year old to grasp. I watched his face change expressions, as he was processing the information. He was still confused. What does one have to do with the other? How come we can’t celebrate both? Yes, we celebrated Hanukkah last week, but what about Christmas next week? And does that mean Santa won’t be visiting our house? What about my presents? Have I not been a good boy all year?…
Hmmm. Didn’t think about that. What do I do now?! I posted a question to the single mothers group I belong to, asking for other mom’s perspective. Most replies came from fellow Jewish mothers and emphasized the various ways each celebrated Hanukkah. But that still didn’t address the problem. One Jewish mother, who’s daughter is half African American, said they celebrated “everything” – Hanukkah, Kwanza, Christmas, and a few other.
I liked that idea. It got me thinking – what if I adapted it and started celebrating Christmas, Jewish style? Is that going to work with our religious identity? Are we breaking any religious or ethical rules? Or is it just that uncomfortable “Christmasy” feeling creeping up again? And what does it say about the strength of my conviction in right and wrong? Was it actually wrong?
After much consideration (and nagging from my son), I’ve decided to start “celebrating” Christmas, Jewish style. We went to the store and picked up a tree, got some decorations, came home and had some eggnog while decorating the tree. There were no discussions about Jesus or the meaning of Christmas, but there were presents under the tree from Santa on Christmas morning. My son was ecstatic. He was able to tell anybody who asked (pretty much everywhere we went) what he got for Christmas, instead of having to say – in a gloomy face – “Santa doesn’t come to our house – we’re Jewish…” or “we don’t celebrate Christmas” and get the “pity look” from everybody around him.
And when he grows up he’ll be able to tell his college buddies about the time “he” discovered there’s no Santa Clause…
Yes, peer pressure is a powerful thing. Although, not as powerful as a mother’s love for her son.
Dee Adams is a mom to a 7 year old boy and the owner of Cool Kids Places, a website for parents looking for fun and interesting places to go with their kids.
