By Soraya Keiser
My family has always been a strict decorate-for-Christmas-in-December kind of family. We wait until the Thanksgiving hoopla has died down, the radio stations play exclusively Christmas music and a foot of snow has drifted to the ground. That’s just how it’s been. Also, I’m pretty sure my parents wait to put the tree up so my brothers and I don’t fixate on what will soon be under it. But this isn’t an I-hate-the-Christmas-season rant. Please. I would resign from the Clarion right now if that were true. I have just always thought Christmas has its time and place: December.
This concept was never a point of contention until I came to college and my roommates were the biggest Christmas-lovers I ever knew. They started listening to the Mariah Carey Merry Christmas album before Halloween, although only through their AirPods because they knew I thought it was weird. That’s just how we dealt with it, at least until the first snowfall of the year Nov. 13.
We were all driving back to campus after eating delicious spinach and artichoke dip at Moe’s American Grill in Mounds View, and snow had started falling fast while we were in the warmth of the building. When we got out it was cold and windy, and everything seemed to be sparkling. The thin layer of snow made the 7 p.m. darkness just a little bit brighter, and I will admit, it was rather festive. How could I say no to Christmas music?
Why shouldn’t we celebrate the small things? When days get dark by 5 p.m., any chance to celebrate should be taken with gusto.
In this issue we celebrate athletic achievement. We celebrate Festival of Christmas in person. We celebrate the legacy of a professor who gave so much to Bethel. We celebrate art in the midst of sorrow. We celebrate Latinx culture. We celebrate the chance to tell stories. We celebrate being alive.
It’s easy to get bogged down in pulling off projects and preparing for finals, realizing you don’t have enough money to buy all your friends Christmas gifts or dealing with the freezing wind that whips at your ankles as you run across Kresge Courtyard, but I urge you to find moments of celebration amid all of that heaviness. Find moments that make you smile despite previous opinions, because those moments are precious.