Giving Season

Call me Miss Scrooge
Diana B. Velasco

'And to you, a stranger who has patiently read everything I have had to write about today: a sincere and grateful smile and the warmest "Merry Christmas!" I can muster from the bottom of my heart.'

NINE out of 10 Filipinos would answer "Christmas!" when asked what their favorite time of the year is. Count me in the deviant 10 percent. I'd rather intensify my tan under the scorching summer sun than get upper respiratory tract infection from the nippy weather whenever December rolls in.

These are the reasons why I don't like Christmas.

Whoever said that Christmas has become an exercise in crass commercialism truly wasn't kidding. Everybody feels the urge nay, the pressure, to spend when the holidays come.

Top of the expense list are gifts. For our godchildren, friends, relatives, heck, your whole clan, household help and the ubiquitous manito/manita in school, at the office and the other groups we have had the misfortune of associating with at the start of the year, presents for them alone would set us back by the thousands, or tens of thousands, if we get carried away visiting the malls and Christmas bazaars that have begun to spring up all around the city like mushrooms in weather that is wet, wet, wet.

And then there are presents we absolutely have to get for ourselves. A new wardrobe for those pesky December reunions doesn't even count because those are necessities, not the treats we want to indulge in after working so hard the whole year. Personally, the holidays find me wandering stores and stalls in a zombie-like trance, credit card in hand and numbly thinking, "I want new body scrubs and moisturizers. I deserve this funky pair of shoes! Dinner in an expensive restaurant would be nice tonight." I can only hope that Citibank will forgive and allow me to atone for my sins in the year 2005.

Sadly, Christmas also never fails to find me saying goodbye to the wonderful results of rigorous dieting. After struggling with Le Atkins for four months, I lost 15 pounds and I have never felt better. Alas, just thinking about Noche Buena is making me gain weight.

It seems that we're all required to whip up at least five "special" dishes and have quezo de bola on our noche buena tables. And I don't even like quezo de bola! But not only are we to prepare a feast to make our holiday table groan under its weight, we are also compelled to voraciously consume this feast until we whimper in delight or indigestion. Show me a person who can eat like a bird at a Christmas buffet and I'll show you a cook who took too many taste tests while preparing the meal. In any case, everybody gains. Weight, I mean.

And then we all collectively promise to enroll in a gym in January. And defiantly proceed to break our number one New Year's resolution on the first day of the New Year. "My hangover was so bad I couldn't bring myself to enroll at Gold's." Yeah right. And so it goes, year after year after year.

I will have to beg for your indulgence for this holiday blues rant. As I grew older, I have increasingly found myself longing for the simplicity of life. The capacity to work, to earn and to find yourself slowly inching your way to your rightful place under the sun comes with great responsibilities. And these responsibilities exponentially increase the complexities we have to deal with in this thing we call our life.

This Christmas, I have but one wish: to go back to the basics. Reflection. Silence. Prayer. Peace. Gratitude for the blessings we have received continuously all throughout our lives. These are what I would like to find again within me.

For my godchildren, my wish is to be able to give them proper guidance in their growing-up years and a sympathetic ear that will listen without prejudice to their youth. To my colleagues, to be able to have a continuously harmonious and efficient level of teamwork that will grow to its full potential with the barest of conflicts. To my family and friends, I would like to give and receive the gift of togetherness and love, where the entire year is punctuated by the tinkle of delighted laughter and warm, tight hugs that will last the rest of our lives.

And to you, a stranger who has patiently read everything I have had to write about today: a sincere and grateful smile and the warmest "Merry Christmas!" I can muster from the bottom of my heart.

Sige na nga.

(You may email missabsinthe@yahoo.com for your comments.)

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