What Does Christmas Mean To You?

Christmas means a lot of different things to different people. For some it's about family, others about presents, traditions, snow. Everyone has a vague idea of what Christmas is about, what it stands for, why it is important. I don't think that anybody's reason is wrong, but I do think it's something each of us should think about and know about ourselves.

My thoughts on Christmas have changed quite a bit over time. Growing up one of Jehovah's Witnesses, I did not celebrate Christmas. I remember driving through neighborhoods, envious of the pretty lights, the gorgeous Christmas trees in front windows, fun, inflatable Santas and snowmen. I remember my parents complaining about listening to Christmas music in the stores, the lines, the "bell ringers" out front. It was awkward knowing what to say when wished a Merry Christmas. I could not return in kind, but did not want to be rude. And of course I had to be coached on what to say if someone asked what I wanted for Christmas, what I got for Christmas, etc. A whole lot of effort went into not celebrating Christmas.

After I stopped being a practicing Jehovah's Witness, I must admit that Christmas was about the presents. Hey, it was a new thing for me. And the decorations. I bought boxes and boxes of ornaments that first year, not really knowing how to decorate a tree, and endured a little ribbing from my husband. It was fun. I wanted everything to be absolutely perfect. Things didn't go exactly the way I wanted them to, but looking back it was perfect because it was ours.

This will be my fourth Christmas. And now Christmas is more about spending time with my husband. We are such busy people and we're both looking forward to being our family - each other. We're building our own little traditions. Of course I'm still into the presents! But I've found what is really important about the holidays. It's our family. Our little family of two that will hopefully one day be a bigger family. The stores and the traffic and all that don't really matter. Happy time together matters. And that's what Christmas means to me.

How 9/11 Changed My World

I didn't live in New York. I didn't have family there. I wasn't in business when it happened. I didn't go to public school. I was 14 in 2001. Outwardly, nothing changed for me. But inside, many things did.

I was raised as a Jehovah's Witness (I am no longer one, having been disfellowshipped). My parents were extremely strict and sheltering. I was homeschooled. I did not know anybody who was not a JW. Everything I did centered around the religion. I spent at least 70 hours a month preaching, I went to church three times a week, I studed ahead for church, I atended church functions. Religion was not part of my life, it was my life.

I remember that morning very clearly. I was getting ready to go preaching. Someone was going to pick me up at home and I was going to be out all day. I had finished showering and was walking through the living room on my way to eat breakfast when I glanced at the TV, and saw the first plane go into one of the towers. I was shocked. I stared at the TV for what seems like forever. My mother was calmly sitting on the couch eating cereal. When she saw my reaction, she nonchalantly said, "It's ok. Don't worry about it." I continued to stare and could not believe what I was seeing. Who had done this? Why? How should I feel about it? Jehovah's Witnesses are supposed to be neutral to politics, peaceful, not have an opinion or get involved.

I had to leave to be on time for a church meeting before preaching, so I left. In the car all day that was all that was on the radio. Businesses were closed. Some of the schools closed. I wanted to scream and cry ask what was going to happen, but I couldn't. My religion wouldn't let me. Instead, I went to people's doors, trying to share a Bible verse to "comfort" them. Mostly people were apalled that I was at their. There was no comforting that day.

That's the day my feelings about my religion had changed. Until then, I had blindly followed, trying to please my parents and everyone I knew. 9/11 was a wake-up call to me. How could I follow a religion that would not fight for it's people? If there is a cause worth fighting for, wouldn't it be to protect our homeland? If there is a time where it's ok to stop everything and feel the pain of the person next to you, wouldn't it be then? Instead of only feeling grief for the Jehovah's Witnesses that died that day, shouldn't we grieve for everyone? Not only those that died, but their families? Shouldn't we grieve for those who didn't die? We used the events of that die to try to preach to others the teachings of Jehovah's Witnesses. To try to say that our beliefs were better. But they weren't. We weren't really helping anyone, not even ourselves. I was preaching to people about a time when everyone might live forever, but that day I had realized my own mortality. That my religion did not guarantee my life. And that I was being pushed in the wrong direction.

This is not a great story like others have written today. This is not a great memorial to those that died that day, or those that have died avenging them. Nor am I saying that religion is bad, or even that Jehovah's Witnesses are bad. It's just a story of the turmoil that day caused within a confused kid. That day began a long chain of events that has led me to where I am now, a happy, healthy person with her own opinions and views.