Pam Shensky

I am on a mission to find Christmas, the real one, not the one in those jumbo, cookie cutter department stores that slip it in on the heels of plastic witches with bar codes and then so rudely take Thanksgiving’s thunder. No, I am trying to find the one that can’t be wrapped up in “holiday” paper or paid for with plastic. It is becoming more and more difficult to find, but I know it is still there.

For a long time, I have been putting together a memoir of sorts about someone I knew, someone who impacted me tremendously, someone I wish all of you could have known. For my Christmas column, I am including a small part of what I hope to one day be a completed product; a few words that are about her and Christmas, the real one. I hope these simple words take you, for a moment, to a more peaceful place amongst all of the stress of the “holidays.”

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“In the woods beside her house was a place that would embody the idea of a homemade Christmas. I had discovered this Christmas place, as I would later think of it, on a walk one day. It was a small place but it was all about the bounty of the season. It was framed with a grouping of pines that must have been 100 years old. They were tucked into a tiny cove that dipped and caused a natural rhythm and I knew the smell of sap there would be forever etched in my mind. Amongst the tall pines were ‘wild’ holly bushes that were decked in red berries for the winter birds and the small animals that lived there. The holly leaves were deep green and glossy and there were perfectly shaped brown pine cones that had fallen and landed beneath each bush. These coniferous cones were so huge and perfect; I knew they were made especially for Christmas. There was Spanish moss hanging from a nearby oak; it was plentiful and would fit well into whatever I put together. The fragrance there in that little swoop of land was so intense; something I knew I would never forget. The earth was so rich from the years of accumulation of pine needles and dropped holly berries and because it was in a cove it all just stayed there and took its time to decompose and give back. Nature was on display here, preparing herself for Christmas.

“While there one crisp and clear winter morning, I gathered an armful of Spanish moss and set on top of it sprigs of pine needles and bunches of holly and in my deep coat pockets I stuffed pine cones and acorns. I am sure the sap must have soiled my pockets and the berries must have stained the fabric, but that was really no matter at all to me, only that I had gathered Christmas from this secret space in the woods and I headed home with my surprise.”

I wish I could go back to that place in the woods and smell the pine and look at the night sky on Christmas Eve. The night would be dark in the woods, away from the town, and amongst the scattering of stars I would find the brightest one, the Christmas Star, and think of the shepherds that kept watch through the silent night and I would find Christmas.

PAM SHENSKY is the mother of five and a teacher at New Iberia Senior High.