My magical truth!

When I was probably too little for this, my parents had decided for me to learn a truth about life which they thought to be important. So, as a little girl, not yet a witch but always fond of those weird ladies with big noses showing up in my picture books, I was told something my parents thought I needed understand to develop properly.

One Christmas, when the presents were unwrapped and we were watching something nice on TV, they took me aside and told me that the whole magic about Christmas was not real.

At first, I did not know what exactly they meant.
I surely had never seen any old man with a beard entering our home and handing out presents. Since I grew up in a very religious family, it also seemed very odd to me to now being told that everything funny about Jesus they had ever passed on to me was now suddenly supposed to be not true, but I didn‘t even ask.

I couldn‘t, because there was a weird feeling in my stomach.
A bit numb.
Or sick.
A bit nervous, probably.
I began to wonder why we had put up a tree and decorated it so beautifully, if none of this was real.
I was wondering, why we all had been having so much fun a few moments earlier with eating cookies and giving each other all these colorful presents.
Why had we been in church playing music with all of our friends and neighbours, if there was really nothing special about it?
Did it even make sense that we visited my grandmother the next day? Should we tell her?

And then, carefully, I asked my mother: „Is there really nothing special about this day?“
And she laughed, the same way she laughed when our cat accidentally broke something. „No, your father and I bought these presents.“
„I see that, but is there really nothing? Not the slightest bit of magic about this? Not a little bit of wonder?“
„No.“

And suddenly, I felt embarrassed.
I felt embarrassed for just moments ago having been so happy. So festively happy, as I had always been on this day. I wondered if I should behave differently the next time, or even tomorrow at my grandmother’s house.

Seeing me thinking, my mother added that she thought it important for me to grow up and realize this. She said that he had been worried that other children may laugh about me being so naiv, and that I took everything always a bit too seriously.

Luckily, she never caught me sitting by the window and waiting for my Hogwarts-letter a few years later …

But anyway, now I have grown up. Very much. This Christmas just described happened 20 years ago. I am 27 year old woman now, and I still remember this moment as if it was yesterday.

And thankfully, I realized how wrong my parents had been, with everything they had been trying to teach me that night. Because the magic is real!

Although, neither in form of an old men breaking into houses, nor baby Jesus returning and making people happy. In general, you can stay away from me with anything concerning this weirdo in history!

But the magic of the moment is real.

The crafting and hunting of presents for loved ones!
The baking of cookies and other delicious things!
The decorations and the lights in the dark!

I love all kinds of winter traditions. They make me feel like a witch, because they light up the darkest and longest nights, and turn everything into a fairy tale. I love putting up fairy lights, candle light, baking things and crafting little presents for the people I care about. I love how different a usually gray and ugly city, such as Bochum in Germany (where I decided to live for the past 7 years) suddenly looks, once the decorations are up.
The little girl that was shocked by their parents only grew up to find that magic again.
That magic of watching the favourite childhood movies in dark winter nights!
Of still having an advent calendar!
Of decorating a tree!
And of preparing little presents for people close to me.

Because the warm feeling that these (or even other winter traditions) can provide are magical.

Although, I am thinking about making the winter solstice my personal holiday, and to maybe establish a little winter gathering to warm up the soul with all my friends on this day, and ignore Christmas a bit more.

Anyway, the most important thing is that I found that magic again, and that somewhere inside of me, 7 year old me is very happy.

Also, I was told today that I looked much happier in these pictures than I ever have for the past 3 years, so I think they fit this very personal blog post!

That was me, enjoying a coconut hot chocolate on a Christmas market lighting up a not so pretty city. I have truly missed this during the pandemic, and I am so glad to have charged up that kind of energy again!

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