A couple of weeks ago, part of the Plugged In staff gathered around the microphone and talked about our favorite television Christmas specials for the Official Plugged In Podcast (it’s episode #127, if you’re interested). My personal fave: A Charlie Brown Christmas, which has been aired every holiday season since 1965.
I loved the special so much that I own it on DVD now—along with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman and a bunch of other specials. We can watch ‘em anytime we want. Not that we do, of course. Just wouldn’t feel right watching Yukon Cornelius in August.
But we’re all a little like that, aren’t we? When Christmas rolls around, most of us become creatures of habit: We watch the same movies, sing or listen to the same songs, read the same stories. If we often use entertainment as comfort food for the mind, we derive particular comfort from it during the Christmas season. If I stumble across It’s a Wonderful Life, I’m almost guaranteed to plop down on the couch and watch the thing. I know the Christmas season is full upon us when I first hear Bruce Springsteen’s “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” For years, I forced my family to listen to me read Barbara Robinson’s The Best Christmas Pageant Ever—and hoped they’d forgive me if I got a little choked up at the end.
These are the sorts of gifts that keep on giving. These stories and songs and shows become as much a part of the Christmas season for us as hanging lights or setting up the Nativity set. Entertainment often serves to separate families. But sometimes, it can help bring families together.
My kids are older now—like, either in college or about to go—and I doubt they’ll let me read to them this year. I don’t know whether we’ll watch A Charlie Brown Christmas, either. After all, we can recite the thing practically from memory; is it really important that we watch it again?
And yet, even when some of our Christmas traditions fall by the wayside for a year or two, the memories are always there. And I know that, when my kids begin having children of their own, their own memories will pull them back. They’ll sit their kids down and read about the horrible Herdmans, or they’ll all watch George Bailey help Clarence with his wings, or see Charlie Brown bring home the sorriest Christmas tree you ever did see.
And in that moment, generations will link: Grandsons and sons and fathers and grandfathers will see the same thing through much the same set of eyes. We’ll remember when we first saw Linus wrap his blanket around that tiny tree, maybe sitting with our own mothers and fathers so long ago.
I hope y’all will enjoy some old memories and create some new ones this Christmas. Have a blessed one.
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