Over Thanksgiving my siblings and I were reminiscing about the magical holidays we experienced as children. Having such magical holidays as a child brings about its own difficulties, because we have yet to be successful in re-creating them. So we were discussing what made those holidays so magical.

I have believed for a long time that part of the magic was in the number of people that we had attend those holidays. The biggest event we had was the Christmas Eve dinner where we packed 42 people into three rooms of an 1800 square-foot house. Those people included my grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles, cousins, my grandparents’ siblings, my aunts and uncles’ in-laws, my great-grandparents – it was massive! Being a smaller child, I don’t remember it feeling crowded, but that may have been my perception as a small child and not the reality. But I do remember everyone there talking, laughing and happy, so even if it was a little tight no one seemed to mind.

I also remember being in love with the decorations. There was the white flocked Christmas tree with gold ornaments in the upstairs family room; a real and well decorated Christmas tree in the downstairs family room with stockings hung over the hearth just beneath the strands of Holly. For Christmas Eve dinner I remember maroon tablecloths on the roundtables with the centerpiece being an oil lantern surrounded by Holly. There were a few nativity sets scattered around the house, with the most beautiful being an all-white porcelain nativity scene on top of spun glass with blue Christmas lights illuminating the scene. I remember tiny plastic Santa Claus mugs that were filled with butter mints and peanuts as an after-dinner treat. The decor truly was magical.

I believe that all of these things contributed to my experience, but I have been to other large gatherings in ornately decorated settings and yet I didn’t experience the same magic. As I’ve thought more deeply about the experience, I’ve come to realize that it was the caliber of people at those gatherings. Although I did not live with these people 24/7, I can’t recall a single instance where my grandparents or aunts and uncles said anything bad about anyone. It’s been exceptionally rare to have heard my own parents say anything bad about anyone. I recall very little negative talk or complaining among these people, and the only negative talk or somber feelings that I recall stemmed from three incidences: 1) the murder of my grandmother’s brother and sister-in-law; 2) my uncle suffering through an ugly justifiable divorce; and 3) one grandchild really struggling as a teenager. And most of the somberness and negativity involved in those moments were simply expressions of heartache for people hurting. These people were truly happy and content with who they were, what they had, and where they were on this journey of life. I never saw or heard anyone comparing themselves or others; I never saw anyone trying to keep up with the Joneses or stuck in the rat race. In them I never saw vanity, I never saw pride, I never saw discontentment, I never heard guile. We were not surrounded by riches, but we were surrounded by richness in the form of love, happiness and positivity.

This wellspring began with my grandparents, and I’m devastated to see how far I have fallen from their example in just two generations. I can see that the only way to provide my children with the same magic that I experienced is to be as they were and to surround them with those kinds of people. And I suppose it’s never too late to start.