The Heart of a Child

by Brenna

I love Christmas. I love decorations and copious amounts of sugar and family and friends and laughter and presents and Christmas movies and pictures and smiles, and I even tolerate all five thousand country renditions of “Winter Wonderland.” But this year feels sadly unlike Christmas.

Yes, Christmas is more than presents and food. It is family, friends, fun, togetherness, and ultimately, the celebration of the birth of Christ. Although I love all these qualities, I have always seen Christmas as one more thing: childish freedom. And there is such a saddening lack of that this year.

People grow up to fast. Some are forced to because of circumstances in their family, community, or own personal lives. Others do so because they want to appear mature and capable, and they think they can prove their accomplishments in responsibility and authority. Still others don’t even realize how quickly they’re growing up until the day they awaken and realize that childhood has faded away, and all they can clearly see in the future is unwanted hard work. And I hate that. Where’s the passion and enjoyment in that?

I am convinced that if C.S Lewis were alive right now, he and I would be best friends. That fact is rather irrelevant, I suppose, but he did once say profound words that I stumbled across a few weeks ago: “When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty, I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.”

This quotation was like a breath of fresh air when I was feeling so overwhelmed with responsibility one day. In reality, there are few things more precious than embracing childishness.

In the past few weeks, I have claimed more responsibility, work, and pressure than ever before in my life. And yet I have not felt so much like a child in a long time. I have accepted these burdens, per se, because they lead to and fulfill my passions. And passion is such an intrinsic part of childhood. Children get excited over the smallest things, like a piece of paper covered with their very own crayon scribbles. And when they take in a truly magnificent being, they are overwhelmingly enthralled. Do you know or even faintly remember what it is like to be overwhelmed in such a way?

I remember having my fifth birthday party at a little tea and dress up shop for girls. Ladies did the hair and makeup on my friends and me, and we got to choose elaborate dresses and eat tea cakes and fancy (disgusting) cookies. It was incredible to me. The array of dresses, myriad of lipsticks, trays of food, and willingness of women to cater to my every desire struck my mind with awe. I did not think any day would ever surpass it. Perhaps I was right.

I remember going to Williamsburg, Virginia for Christmas when I was ten years old. I have seen few things more beautiful than the enormous Christmas tree displayed in the town square. But I also remember being cold, bored, and thinking that I was far too old and mature to be engaged by a Christmas tree. I complained until we returned to the hotel.

I remember going to Worldview Academy at Point Loma University this summer, and having my devotionals while perched on a ledge that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. One morning, I hardly picked up my Bible or wrote a word in my journal. I was too focused on the magnitude, beauty, and overwhelming nature of the crystal blue water. How could something so huge and so beautiful exist, and only be a minuscule fraction of what constitutes matter? I felt that sense of childlike incredulousness, and it was beautiful.

And yet this year, I see no wonder. I see no happiness. I see no excitement, dreams, laughter, or genuine joy. I see sad and tired faces moping through stores in an attempt to find last minute presents. I hear the words “I’m just trying to get through the holidays” and “I can’t wait until this season is over.” I hear halfhearted a “happy holiday” from the cashier in the store who truly has zero interest in what my holiday is like, but says so out of necessity. It saddens me.

My family recently adopted two dogs. Whenever we come home, one of them begins barking and jumping like he hasn’t seen humans in months, and the other runs rapidly between our legs and looks up at us with her big brown eyes that instantly melt my heart. The family coming home after a short outing is so small and insignificant, yet it means the world to the dogs every time it happens. Why can people never experience that same excitement and joy anymore?

My boyfriend always tells me that I’m most beautiful when I laugh and embrace my childish side. I don’t know about the accuracy of that statement, but it’s sure when I feel the most beautiful. I feel free and confident and happy and beautiful when I let go and open my heart to joy. Part of the reason that we end up sad so often is that we make ourselves so immune to happiness. It seems impossible, so we reject its possibility. And how can happiness infiltrate a heart and mind set on ignoring it? It can’t. Ultimately, it largely has to be a conscious choice that only we can make.

There is so much more than just “getting through the season” this Christmas. I know it’s really hard for some. I know that some are seriously struggling financially and can’t have much of a Christmas at all–but that does not mean happiness is impossible. It’s only impossible if you shut it out and refuse to find it in anything but the miraculous. I know others are experiencing their first Christmas without a loved one. I’m part of that crowd. And although I miss my grandma and grandpa very much, I celebrate this season because I remember how much they adored it. Happiness floods in when we let the good memories add to our lives instead of becoming our lives. And that is when we are like little children, ecstatic at the most trivial yet lovely things.

Don’t let the failings of life or the insistence on fantastical diminish the cheer of the holidays. Don’t grow up too fast and think that childishness is inherently evil, because it is a wonderful thing. Embrace joy, freedom, and happiness–they make you and your life so very beautiful.