With the holiday season rapidly bearing down on us, there is quite a lot to think about. Holidays are generally very joyful, but can also be very stressful and even heartbreaking. There is one story I have that always warms my heart when I recall it.
In June of 1996, I moved to Florida following my college graduation. I was by myself, and if you'll recall a few of my previous posts, I usually do anything possible to avoid being in a situation which requires me to be alone. But here I was, freshly graduated, packing up what few worldly possessions I could call my own and hiking it down to Florida. The only people I knew were the owners of the radio station where I had just been hired and 3 or 4 of the other staff members, whom I had met a year and a half prior, while doing an internship. Soon after I arrived, a co-worker found a cat which he passed on to me, knowing that I am a definite cat person. I happily adopted the stray orange tiger and named him Rajah. Slowly, I made a few friends around town where I was living, and the staff at the radio station very graciously introduced me to many of the people they knew (which was pretty much everyone in the whole town- it was a very small town).
I don't remember Thanksgiving 1996, but I remember Christmas. It was perhaps the loneliest holiday I've ever had. I wasn't able to return home to New York until December 28. I decorated my apartment the best I could, and strung some lights around the potted palm tree in my living room. I didn't have a real Christmas tree. The presents that I bought to bring home with me, and any box or package I received in the mail, were put under the palm in an attempt to make myself feel better about being alone. As much as I tried to cover it up and rationalize with myself, I couldn't help it - I was downright lonely and sad. I knew I had to spend Christmas Day by myself, and what was worse was that I had to work that morning.
I awoke early on Christmas, got dressed and shuffled off to the station for my shift. While I was working, a couple of friends called me. I knew that he was the postmaster and she was a hairdresser, and they were both extremely friendly and pleasant people, but that's about all I knew about them. They asked if I had plans for the day, and when I said no, they asked if I would join their family. They would be having dinner at their son's house with his wife and kids, and said I would be more than welcome to come along. It didn't take a second invitation for me to say yes. I figured just about anything would be better than sitting home feeling sorry for myself. I can't remember all the specifics about the day, but I remember that I had a wonderful time. The food was delicious, the kids were great fun, the company was wonderful, and I felt wanted. I was in a great mood and I wasn't lonely.
I had experienced what it means to have the holiday spirit. I had been invited to the home of a family I barely knew. They took me in and offered me kindness so I wouldn't be alone. Every year around the holidays I remember this, and I look for opportunities to do the same for someone else. Being a part of that spirit of giving gave me the best feeling in the world. That feeling is total AHA.
No comments:
Post a Comment