The Evolution of My Christmas.

I love Christmas. 

Don’t ask why,  I also can’t explain it.The spirit of it,  the lights in the malls. The discounts on prices of things  ( I got 10% off my cup of frozen yogurt the other day), the Christmas carols, the hustle and bustle of downtown, the excessive amounts of food,  the travel,  the relatives only seen once a year. You name it and it’s the reason I love Christmas. 

Christmas is a reminder of my happiest childhood memories. 

He that fathered me would slaughter a cow on Christmas Eve. We would then move around our village giving our neighbors  packages of meat,  onions and tomatoes as a Christmas gift.

It was exciting especially because it gave us bragging rights in the village for the rest of the year. 

We would then go and hunt for a Christmas tree from allover the place, cut it and drag it to the house, where we waited for mother dearest to instruct us on how to decorate it. 

My job was mainly to blow air into the balloons and I was very good and competent at it. 

There were no Christmas lights in our house at the time, but it was a beautiful tree. It had such a fresh scent about it and sat in the corner breathing Christmas to us. 

Christmas morning was really busy for the older siblings. One of my sisters and I had the absolute pleasure of having well made katogo breakfast,adorning our matching outfits and heading to church with he who fathered me. 

He made it a point to buy two packets of sweets. One for the tree and the other for us to give to the other kids in Sunday school. (I remembered this today and it warmed my heart) 

Because my sister is too nice a human being she made sure I didn’t pocket any of those sweets,  we would give all of them out, apparently to emulate that God gave us His son, or the spirit of Christmas. 

The day usually ended with alot of food made by mother dearest’s impeccable culinary skills and her vast number of assistants a.k.a the older siblings. 

We would have enough people to fill our compound and we would dance till dark. He that fathered me would reward the best dancer (usually me because well last borns run the world)  and we would retire to bed exhausted, but having had a great day. 

28th December, (it’s a day dedicated to children in Uganda, I don’t know if that happens everywhere), together with the children from my Sunday school, we would go visit ‘Toro Babies Home’, and we carried gifts  together with alot of love for these children. 

It  taught us to share Christmas love for those children who didn’t have the privilege of family. 

Well I have come along way from those days. While I sat at village mall the other day with my sister watching and listening to my musical girl crush MoRoots, Sandra Suubi and Solome Busuuta spread some Christmas cheer, it struck me that like everything else  in my life Christmas has evolved. I turned to my sister and asked if she remembers what Christmas looked like back in the day. The realization of how far our Christmas has come was bittersweet. 

Earlier that day I  had attended the very first show of Watoto Church’s Christmas Cantata and it was heavenly. (By the way if you are in Kampala please enter appearance at watoto church down town. Shows are at 6pm and 8:15 pm every day until the 24th,  you will be glad you went).

Christmas has evolved from Ngombe A Village in Kabarole District to events on Kampala road.

The only thing that hasn’t changed is the piles of food. There is no tree,  or sweets to give. 

Christmas Cantata at Watoto Church. Source :Facebook

Christmas for me is more than finding something merry about the 25th of December. 

It’s gratitude to God  for making it to the end of the year, regardless of how well or how bad it went. 

It’s a reminder that love is a gift.

I get to meet most of my family all in one place (it’s an abnormally enormous family)  and between the chatter, and more food than we can all ever finish, I look around the compound and there is no place I would rather be.

I know in those moments, that it’s not about the carols or the beauty in the decorations at Acacia Mall and all its cousins. 

Christmas means remembering that an awesome God gave me an undeserved gift,  so I can wear my party shoes all the way into the new year. 

Thank you @ugbloc for this writing prompt. 

Merry Christmas. 

What does Christmas mean to you?