The Dominion SATURDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1933. THE SEASON OF GIFTS

Dominion, Volume 27, Issue 71, 16 December 1933, Page 8

The Dominion SATURDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1933. THE SEASON OF GIFTS

To grown-ups Christmas invariably comes with a rush, for they are never quite prepared for it. It is possible to conceive of a very methodical individual sitting down about a month before the advent of the season! of gifts, planning with pencil and paper the scope of his generosity, listing the prospective fortunate recipients oi _ his favours, and making, packing and addressing his purchases. Thus organised he awaits the posting date with a brow unfurrowed and a conscience at peace. But very few people are like that, and it is as well, perhaps, that they are not. A Christmas organised to the last detail would be a very cold-blooded affair; and it might develop into a somewhat miserly one. . How often do we hear the remark, usually uttered some weeks before the white-whiskered old gentleman in scarlet suiting and snowfur trimmings is due to arrive: “We are so hard up this year that we are not giving any presents, so we' do not want any.” But what happens? The dawn of Christmas Week sees the spread of a subtle and altogether delightful infection. It is the Spirit of Christmastide, touching 'the sentiment of one after another with her magic wand, and inducing a gentle intoxication which brightens the eye and warms the heart. People no longer care very much whether they are hard up or not. At all events they suddenly discover that they are not as hard up as they thought they were, and before they quite realise it they are swept into the joyous maelstrom of Christmas shopping. And so all is well with both the community and the individual. A season of festive spending has a tonic effect, for this relaxation from set discipline in The economies of life is like a holiday from work. Tradition, moreover, has provided an appropriate atmosphere of sincere good-will, cordial hand-shaking, and well-wishing in which to welcome the coming and speed the departing gifts. Many an unexpected gift is the expression of some slight or hurt forgiven. The desire to be friends, to be at, peace with all men, is a human sentiment. Christmastide has fixed its place in the calendar, and given to that gift season a special and felicitous sanctity. Fqr the young folk-, however, the Christmas shopping week, with ’the lure of magic caves, the gaily-decorated windows of the toy emporiums, and the dreams of well-filled stockings, is a season of high carnival. It comes with halting footsteps. “Coming—like Christmas!” is a familiar jibe in juvenile circles. Even the worst spasms of adult economy must perforce yield to the eager expectancy that glows on the faces of the youngsters as they discuss with the characteristic frankness of youth their hopes of what the Christmas stockings will contain.