Ron wrote this a few years ago for the Christmas Eve edition of his newspaper, and his son Kevin read it at Ron's memorial.
Merry Christmas to you all, and I hope you find as many moments of peace and joy as you need. -- Jodine
"The Longest Day
by Ron Graham
(for the Monday, Dec. 24, 2001 Christmas Eve edition of the Edmonton Sun)
A lot of people don't seem to realize that today is the longest day of the year. They think last Friday was the shortest day and June features the longest day thanks to that solstice and equinox stuff.
Who cares about all that? Any five-year old can confirm that today is the longest day of the year. Every hour is closer to bedtime. But every hour takes an eternity.
And when bedtime finally comes, it can take a whole other forever just to fall asleep, especially if you're listening extra hard for the sound of reindeer snorting, hooves pawing, maybe Santa coughing from all that chimney dust.
And if you have brothers or sisters, well, there you all are trying to listen, trying to share in the magic of a special, nothing-else-like-it night.
I guess this is why most folks think Christmas is for kids. Of course, most folks are wrong. Christmas is easily the most important day of the year for adults.
Kids are, by nature, by design, open, believing, full of good cheer, forgiving, and taking every day just as it comes.
Don't believe it? Just watch a three-year old for a day. He or she will run around with the energy of a pro soccer player, and then some, non-stop. In the course of his to-and-fro adventures, my Angus will fall down about once every hour and hit his head or scrape a knee or twist something. Much commotion, followed by a few deep breaths, a hug, and zoom, he's off again.
It's not just that he is less fragile than you or me. If we adults take a spill, after a suitable time of mourning, we will go and tell everyone what happened, and how it happened and what we're going to do about not letting it ever happen again and, say, remember how Uncle Fred broke his hip and Tom fell off the roof that time?
For us, every fall is a major event. For the kids, it's just a little speed-bump on the very fast, very fun road of life.
Kids, Santa Claus and Christmas with its traditions of singing and sharing and being together with family and friends go together like nutcracker soldiers and sugar plum fairies, like mulled wine and mistletoe.
Kids just naturally take to all the magic and mystery. But it's the adults who really need Christmas.
It's the adults who forget about being nice to neighbours. It's the adults who get embroiled in the petty politics of their bureaucracies and need to come up for air.
It's the adults, even the relatives, who forget their earliest Christmases and get all steamed over imagined slights and petty affronts.
It's the adults who are always getting tangled up in never-ending debates over tax increases and spending decreases.
And, above all, it's the adults who need Christmas and their kids, everyone's kids, to remind them there really is less to life than we so often insist there is.
Kids are here so we can grow up, keep growing if you prefer, after we're supposedly "all growed up." Christmas has most of us spending more time with our kids. Not the rationed "quality time" of time management legend. No, just more time: being there, reading stories, being there, singing songs, being there, decorating trees, but above all, just being there. If you remember the magic of Christmas as a child, share in that magic.
Of course, not everyone has been blessed with household juvenile units, let alone six (I am greedy). But as Scrooge proved on Christmas morning, it's never too late and there are lots of kids to go around. Nieces and nephews, cousins and friends. So, on their longest day of the year, share in their joy, draw strength from their simple faith. Remember, Christmas was and remains, always, a child's gift to adults. God bless us everyone. "
