Christmas, the artificial one.

Tis the season once again to forgive, to be jolly, to be merry and all those other christmassy things. yet, i think over the years as i've seen, the idea of Christmas has been diluted with a lot of other elements.

Yes, it is the time of Christ's birth - although by essence of truth, may not be the most accurate of dates, it proves to be a sharp reminder of the Christian discourse of God's gift to the world. A beautiful story to which I hold close to my heart.

But the idea of Christmas today, has been as I said, diluted with elements of cultural practices, economics, media development and consumerism. These elements come together this holiday season - as any other 'joyous'  celebratory occasion to 'spend, spend, spend', to buy the finest for your loved ones, to treat your loved ones with the best material goods/products in our way of expressing our love and affection to each other.

this idea is further enforced through different media outlets - movies, ads, etc. which 'teach' us on how to give, when to give, and why we give. different hollywood movie plots all teach us the art of giving and cherishing each other with the idea of Santa Claus, of gifts, toys, and presents under the Christmas tree. An idea that the things we buy with our own money should be spent on 'stuff' in exchange for someone else's happiness.

This may sound very Grinch like, yet, I think if the Grinch did steal Christmas, of the trees, of the presents, celebrations and all of the above, I think he would be doing us a favour on reflecting on what Christmas truly means. In contradictory truth, to possess nothing, yet own everything at the same time. Something to think about.

I'd like to share a story I wrote whilst I was in Melbourne on Christmas 2010, if you continue to read on:

Bill needs to make at least A$50 tonight before he finds a bed and warm shower, but if he is able to scrape about A$100, he is almost secured for a week. That is, if the manager of the place doesn’t find out – a person over the counter gives Bill a place to rest every once in awhile in this place in Port Melbourne. If he is unable to do so, he sleeps in an alley way with only a couple pieces of cardboard scraps as a blanket and bed, somewhere in Little Lonsdale.

Bill has been living in the streets for about 2 years now, with both parents having perished in a car accident 4 years ago and his partner taking everything he owns – children included – leaving Bill with a large amount of debt and with difficult circumstances. With tears in his eyes, he tells me honestly how he misses them as he stares into blank space. This is the 24^th of Dec, 2010. He has been seeking help from Centrelink to provide him some monetary assistance in starting, but is unable to do so successfully as he is unable to find a permanent place to reside. The vicious cycle continues.

All Bill can do right now is to beg for spare change along the busy areas of the city – primarily Melbourne Central – and hope for good Samaritans to pass by. Bill shares with me that he’s been abused, pissed on, lit on fire, attacked and ridiculed among other things. The hardest part, as he exclaims has to deal with the self-respect of begging. Depression spills all over Bill’s face. He is hardly able to keep his eyes focused on mine as he tells me his story.

Bill shares with me that there are many others who beg, that there are good guys and bad guys in the streets. There are those who beg to gamble again, to buy drugs, and continue living in the state that they are in. While the good guys scrape whatever they can just to make it another night in the streets.

As you listen to Bill’s story, you cannot help but feel sorry for the man. Yet, at the same time, you don’t want to show that side in order to inspire him. If you want to truly see with your own eyes, a man that’s been broken by difficult circumstances, Bill’s life would be sufficient.

Now, this story will probably see no happy ending as of yet. There are many more out there just like Bill with stories to share. Society today chooses to see these people as ‘bums’ or ‘hobos’ and perhaps, you would like to think that the moral of the story would be to think and place yourself in a person like Bill’s shoes, but that would be a very self-centred. It would change the whole direction of the story.

I believe, perhaps, this true story should make you think about these people along the streets – who have stories of brokenness, lost and despair to share. Who are indeed less fortunate, who are survivors in that very sense. 

I spent Christmas eve with Bill and Vee Vien, over a cup of hot tea and a decent conversation about how he ended up on the street, his life and so on. I am in no way attempting to elevate myself to a Saint, yet the reason to my condescending and skeptical outlook on Christmas comes from thinking about the 'dirrty and diluted' things that has turned out to be Christmas. Next day, Bill had received a blanket, but no money from me. 

I think to cap this rant/post off would be to just express how Christmas should always be about people: of friends, family and most importantly, those who have none.