Christmas In A Box. Volume I.

A Worthwhile Christmas - Pride_of_Jah

Growing up in a socially average family, we considered ourselves lucky. Not out of personal judgement, but by side by side comparison. We lived in a rented apartment and we saw our neighbours. They were our yard sticks for measuring our state of affluence. We had everything they didn't have. We could do things they couldn't do, however inconveniently.

One of such things was get into the   "Christmas spirit"

Even if it was those ones we have stuffed in the closet and have seen better years, we had Christmas decorations. The tree was one given to my dad in his place of work since a new one was bought. It was missing a few branches but still kept our hearts aglow.

At least, we had it and it was something to be proud of. Our house wasn't looking dry and boring like that of our neighbors.
Another highlight of Christmas was killing of the Christmas fowl in the morning. It was a tradition that has been lived up to year in, year out. We preferred to trade the purchase of Christmas clothes for the purchase of a fowl.

How else could we prove that we were better off?

The crowing of the fowl to be slaughtered was music to my ears as it placed us on a higher pedestal.

On this fateful Christmas, we woke up to the sounds of "bangers" and fireworks.
We were surprised to have slept in so late and then I recalled that I didn't hear the fowl's daily crow.

I ran outside with trepidation, each step I took was with trembling as I prayed that it wasn't my greatest fear. I got outside to see the fowl lying on its side, looking pale and blue. I screamed and couldn't help the tears from flowing. All I kept muttering was, "this Christmas is ruined, it is!"

It took my dad to pull me away from the ground and get me to go help out in the kitchen while he disposed the dead fowl.
My siblings were helping out in the cooking gladly, bringing one thing or the other.
My sister kept on humming a carol song and it took my willpower not to scream at her to shut it.

I was in dismay, "was I the only one that felt something was missing? Christmas isn't complete without that fowl lying there.
Nothing's good about this Christmas."

We settled to eat and then there was a knock on the door. My dad motioned me to the door and grudgingly,  I went up to open the door.

There I met the shock of my life...

It was my neighbor holding a big white fowl in his hands and motioning to my dad.
According to him, he had bought one and then he got one from his elder brother. He decided to give out the second one as one was more than enough for his family.

I bowed my head in shame as my parents gladly accepted the fowl with words of gratitude. We killed the fowls together and had a chicken barbecue in the compound.
Then I discovered, it was fun. More fun than being stuck to my plate alone in my house.
It was better running around playing games and bring rewarded with pieces of meat.

That act got me thinking. We always had more than enough every Christmas but we were never willing to share with them.
The day my mum raised the idea, I stood against it and told her it wasn't necessary.

Now, they did not just give us pieces of meat but a whole fowl????
I was happy I got to eat chicken that day but more than that, I learnt that Christmas is made enjoyable with charitable acts.

Bridges were mended that day and relationships were restored. The slightest acts of giving makes it a worthwhile Christmas.

Beyond the generally accepted factors that make up the definition of Christmas,
LOVE is the ultimate.

I mean, what better way to commemorate an occasion than live out the reason?

~Pride_of_Jah