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Shianne Noël Priest is a teacher in Old Town.
I was born on Dec. 25. I love my Christmas birthday. I never felt cheated or forgotten. In fact, it makes the season that much more special for me. While I don’t favor the commercialism of Christmas, I do love the days leading up to it. I love that every December we give ourselves permission to feel joy, cherish family, celebrate friends, and believe in magic.
Each year, I write something for my birthday. A letter to myself, of sorts. Sometimes it’s things I’ve learned and will take into the new year. Some years it’s goals to be a better version of myself in the future. Every year, writing it nudges me to consider and be thankful for the abundant blessings in my life. Then, albeit a letter to and for myself, I share it anyway. Why? Well, because maybe it helps someone else to contemplate or understand their own self a little better. Maybe it urges someone to seek the gladness within their own heart.
This year, with all the division that seems to overtake the internet and media, I’ve challenged myself to seek out what connects us and what, if anything, gives our connections eternal life. I’ve dug deeply within my own thoughts to better understand how we are all ripples in the same pond. I’ve asked myself the questions so many before me have asked: Why are we here? Will our being here matter someday when we are someone’s ancestors? Can we still be “here” and make an impact even when we’re gone? What will be my legacy?
I’ve decided that our greatest legacy is love. Being loved is life changing. To be clear, I don’t just mean romantic love. I mean, a parent’s love for their child. The love of a true and trusted friend. A teacher or coach who loves us enough to never give up on us. A neighbor who is always there to lend a hand or look out for us.
Being loved in all these ways, and so many more, makes us feel good. And when we feel good, we do good. And maybe, just maybe, the people we do good for then turn around and do good for someone else. Maybe, down the road, a person remembers the love we gave them and wants to give it back to someone in the same way. Maybe that is how we live forever; by setting into motion a ripple effect that spreads out of our vision, past our corner of the world, and continues to grow after our souls leave this life.
So what does this have to do with my Christmas birthday? Everything. Because in December we try harder to love.
Maybe we don’t mean to. Maybe it’s not a conscious plan. But we do. We volunteer more. We donate more. We raise more money. We visit the nursing homes more. We think of our neighbors more. We call our friends and family more. We buy gifts for children in need who we might not have thought of since last December. We send more cards. We sing more songs. We mend quarrels. We use the nice plates. We hug the people we love. We take photos and prioritize quality time with our beloveds. In every way we can think of, we make love a priority in December.
But what if we lived like it was December all the time? Not the gifts or the parties. No, the best things at Christmas aren’t really things. The best things are the simple acts that might seem small to us but feel big to the person on the receiving end. These gestures are what love looks like in action. The joy. The giving back. The caring.
What if Christmas lived in our hearts year round? How many more ripples would we create? How would our legacy become even more impactful? How many more people would be connected to us by the invisible threads of humanity?
When I blow out my candles this year, my wish will be that I am the creator of many ripples, the carrier of Christmas-like joy, and the giver of December-like love all year. Growing up, my parents often listened to the Johnny Mathis Christmas album in December. I think Johnny had it right. “It’s the Christmas things you do all year through.”