It was my son’s first year in the public school system, as a preschooler. The end of the year doldrums of winter had set in with dull sunless days, and colourless skies. That’s when it feels like the day is over even before it begins, when it gets dark by 3 pm and it’s pitch dark when the sun sets by 4:30 pm. It was that merry time of the year!
My son and I were excited to buy gifts and cards for his teachers, and wrap them up in colourful paper, to add some holiday cheer to the cold drudgery. For him, we got a small artificial Christmas tree and a string of lights, and decorated it with a fledgling collection of hand-made ornaments. We bought gifts for him, wrapped them up, and placed them under the tree. He was so excited to open them on Christmas morning. We played into the whole ‘Santa’ situation that’s so big in the West. We made our due contribution in keeping the ‘magic’ in Christmas alive and cheerful.
That first school year, we wrote out cards of appreciation for all of our son’s teachers, with him scrawling something cute on it too. ‘Merry Christmas!’ The front of the card read in big, bold shiny red letters.
His speech teacher Mrs. White, she and I had an instant connection. She loved performing arts, loved to sing and dance and was very curious about Indian music. She did not have her own children, so she’d be in no rush to get home after school. She was in charge of the after-school extra-curricular activities, and ran a dance club for the 3rd and 4th graders. She got me to teach Yoga sessions to this group. And, she somehow roped me in to teach these kids an Indian dance as well.
I remember we’d exchanged gifts after the successful performance of that dance on the school night. She gave me a gift in appreciation, and I gave her a tiny Saraswati idol, explaining to her the significance of the Goddess. I told her about Saraswati being the Goddess of music, learning, and spirituality. She was so touched by that gesture that she made sure that the Saraswati murti was placed in a coveted place in her office. When Mrs. White opened the holiday present, and read all the kind words we’d penned about her in the card, she was genuinely delighted.
‘Merry Christmas to you too!’ she reciprocated happily.
“Oh but wait! Do you celebrate Christmas? You don’t belong to Christian faith, do you?” She asked, remembering the exchange we had about many Gods and Goddesses in Hinduism, when I gave her the small idol of Goddess Saraswati. Until she asked me the question, it hadn’t even dawned on me, that the basis of Christmas as a celebratory holiday is essentially rooted in religion.
“No, we are not Christians. But we love all the merry holidays!” I cheerfully responded. I had never given it much thought until then.
“Do you follow Christianity? I wished you ‘Merry Christmas’, but do you celebrate it?” I was almost afraid to ask, as suddenly I felt foolish about the presumptive Christmas card.
She smiled kindly. “No I am not a Christian either. I belong to the Jewish faith, and we celebrate Hanukkah. But don’t worry. I am not offended that you wished me for Christmas. All holidays are meant to bring us together as a society after all.”
This woman, twenty years my senior, had given me an invaluable lesson in the grace that day. Eventually as I began to work, and mingle in the community, I learnt how not all Americans celebrate Christmas. I was organically and naturally ‘inoculated’ to have cultural sensitivity and to ask before assuming about someone’s faith and beliefs. My cards now simply read – Happy Holidays.
I found out how richly diverse this country really was. And how this nation by law, allows you to practice any religion under the sun, or no religion at all, if you so choose to. I found out from my son’s studies that there was Kwanza, Hanukkah, Chinese New Year and so many more holidays around this time, not just Christmas. It was also a glaring realization that our traditional schooling back in the day, did not prepare us to become global citizens. But with all this awareness, also came the wisdom, that just because it’s easier to follow customs of the land we live in, does not mean we forgo what our legacy is. It was the cognizance that although a non-believer of religious dogma, keeping our heritage alive through celebrations was equally important.
By Swaroopa Gadgil
Swaroopa Gadgil is a Physical Therapist and a Yoga Teacher, who lives near the Jersey Shore. She is a multi-passionate nature lover, immersed in Art, Yoga, Writing, and Photography. Swaroopa loves to share the experiences she has lived through; people she has encountered in her professional practice through writing and art. She can be contacted at swaroopagadgil@yahoo.com
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