After enjoying a spaghetti dinner with my family last night, I came home and watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The original special from the 1960s is one of my favorite holiday classics.
My favorite quote is “Maybe Christmas… doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas… perhaps… means a little bit more!”
As I’ve grown up, that quote has resonated with me. It’s more than a quote from a children’s story. I’ve experienced that quote myself. When I reflect on my childhood, I realize that the holiday season wasn’t about what was under the tree on Christmas morning.
It was the love of my family that made this season feel magical. I remember waking up with my sister, wondering what surprises awaited us. Our happiness was pure and radiant enough that even today I think its spark is reigniting within me.
I’m so glad that home movies caught so many of those holidays. I have them all saved digitally, and every time I watch these videos, I feel as if I’m in a warm living room. Seeing those videos brings back cherished memories that still shine.
Perhaps that’s the reason I get so much joy from gift-giving today. It’s not about the gift but about the joy it brings. I’ve always had a soft spot for sentimental gifts. Those are the kind of gifts that mean something more than just the day itself.
I love receiving cards. My cousin’s handmade cards mean the world to me because they were made with so much care. Those cards are the things I like to turn to on bad days. Those cards have reminded me that I am loved and that someone took the time to write about it.
Actually, one of the most cherished presents I have ever received is the piggy bank that my grandmother had been saving for me since I was a child. This bank would sit on a shelf in the spare bedroom at her house in a row with all the banks she had set aside for her grandchildren. Each time I would visit her, I would look at them all and wonder what it would be like to find out how much was inside.
When I received mine, I cried. I understood that it was more than a piggy bank. It represented years of savings on her part. Every cent was put away with love.
All of these memories- Christmas morning as a kid, the homemade cards, the videos from home, and the piggy bank—serve as a reminder that Christmas has always revolved around something more than what any store could offer. Christmas is about the people who matter the most, the quality time spent together, and the voices that still echo through my mind and heart today.
Christmas doesn’t come from a store. It never did. For me, it’s always meant something more, something that lasts — something that lives in your heart after the Christmas lights go out.