(Editor’s note: This column is a preprint from Dec. 13, 2023).

There will always be a unique aspect to Christmas that can’t be trumped by any other holiday.

Christmas is, of course, a Christian holiday, a celebration of the Christ child, Jesus, who was born to a virgin to save mankind from its sinful nature. Of course, non-Christians celebrate the holiday while not necessarily subscribing to the belief that Jesus was God in the flesh (Emmanuel translates as “God with us.”) What’s not to like about the songs, the traditions, the trees, the movies, the gatherings, the food and the gifts?

I don’t believe it’s coincidence that the brightest of all holidays occurs at the shortest and darkest time of year – the winter solstice (Dec. 22). Historical record suggests that Jesus was born in spring or fall 4 BC, not necessarily Dec. 25. But at the very time when mankind needs hope in the most dismal time of year along comes heartwarming Christmas.

Christmas has an appeal to most people but it certainly has its downside. More people get depressed at this time of year than any other. Just Monday a young lady committed suicide in downtown Modesto by jumping off a parking structure. There’s the pressure to buy and give, and to host others they may not like being around. There’s also the let-down when that ideal gift doesn’t come – or in this economy, no gifts at all. Also a letdown in that there isn’t enough money to spend the way we wish to lavish gifts on those we love. It can also be hard seeing this magical holiday fade away to normal life on Dec. 26, softened only maybe by the prospects of another holiday on Jan. 1 and another day off work. But even New Year’s Eve can get a person down if they reflect on what’s been a year of losses or difficult transitions; or perhaps fear changes that a new year may bring.

The holidays might magnify a sense of loss as we think about Christmas gatherings with family members who’ve passed on. Our mind drifts back to times when our grandparents were with us in joyous times only to think they’ve been dead for decades.

It’s hard for me to watch the 1964 Claymation TV show of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” because my sweet cousin Sandra Dodd would cry when Rudolph was being made fun of by the other reindeer. Leukemia took her from us as a 10-year-old girl in 1975. Even more poignant now is how my mother, who died in 2020, would mention every year how Sandra was saddened by the TV show.

Gosh how I miss them.

I confess to being a sucker for nostalgic Christmas music. I prefer listening to the songs from the era of my growing up years. Christmas makes me want to hear Bing Crosby sing “White Christmas,” or Nat King Cole sing about chestnuts roasting on an open fire. I can even stand to her Jimmy Durante’s “Frosty the Snowman,” or tolerate Ethel Merman singing “We Need a Little Christmas” or Eartha Kitt’s mildly naughty “Santa Baby.” Gene Autry is alive and well when I hear “Here Comes Santa Claus.” Shivers go up my back when I hear “Ave Maria” or “O Holy Night.”

Occasionally I remember sitting on the floor of our Milpitas house in the mid-1960s opening gifts like pop guns from Granddaddy or bump-and-go toy trains that smoked. (I do happily remember toys were made of metal in the 1960s, not plastic.) In those days Christmas trees were gaudy with heavy tinsel and giant multi-colored house bulbs. I recall the countless times the dreaded fruitcake was a gift. My great Aunt Alice would always hand out a box of chocolate covered cherries.

Then there’s the parade of must-see movies – “Christmas Story,” “It’s A Wonderful Life,” “Miracle on 34th Street” and “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.” As I watch any of the “Home Alone” movies in my mind’s eye I can see my children parked in front of the TV sucking their thumbs only to remove them to laugh. I recall buying my oldest son, Bret, a “Talkboy” recorder modeled after the one Kevin McAlister uses in the movie.

My mother has passed on and my dad is far away in Alabama. He got out of California last year because of the high cost of living and a state where he doesn’t pay property tax as a senior.

Now I’m at the station of life where I can only hope the kids come home for the holiday. To see them reunite over food and games is definitely fun. But two of my children are out of state and won’t be around.

There is immense power to the season. The stingy can take a generous tangent. The argumentative lay aside differences. The nasty can become mellow for a season. I prefer to think it’s because of what the holiday represents: God reaching down, extending His hand of fellowship and offering a gift that can’t be bought delivered in a supernatural package that only came once. This one day can prompts millions of believers and millions of unbelievers to lock up the store or office, and travel home as the whole goes on a collective party.

No story has given me more of an awe of the season than that of the legendary Christmas Eve truce of 1914. Troops numbering 100,000 from Germany, France, England and Scotland were fighting the war in Europe (World War I) and felt compelled to quit fighting for one night and threw down their weapons when one side heard the tender strains of “Silent Night” coming from across enemy lines. The story is told that opposing forces made the frightful walk across the battlefield and exchanged food and souvenirs, sang carols and playing games. “We could see lighted matches, and where they couldn’t talk the language, they were making themselves understood by signs. Here we were, laughing and chatting to men who only a few hours before we were trying to kill,” later wrote Corporal John Fergusen of the Seaforth Highlanders. The fighting would resume the next day – in some cases the next week – and the killing continued. By the end of 1918 the war would have claimed 9 million. If only that one night, where enemies ended fighting in a shared celebration of the Prince of Peace, would have continued.

Of course the cease-fire, unsanctioned and unplanned, was denounced by commanders on both sides of the conflict. But what a wonderful and moving picture of the power of unification and hope represented in Christmas.

The temporary truce compels even the skeptic to consider what makes this festive holiday different from the others. Is this all man-made baloney or is there really some unique force behind it? Seeing how the holiday has remained with us all these thousands of years, there is far more than we acknowledge as a frenzy shopping season.

Without such hope, the world would seem incredibly darker, indeed dismally and eternally dark. That would be terrible.

 This column is the opinion of Jeff Benziger, and does not necessarily represent the opinion of The Ceres Courier or 209 Multimedia Corporation.  How do you feel about this? Let Jeff know at jeffb@cerescourier.com