Tired of these phoney festivities

Whenever I’m confronted with the worst excesses of our over-commercialised, phoney festive season, writes our new blogger Emma Suddaby, I notice that the screaming obscenity of it all is very often washed down with the phrase: “Well, Christmas is all about the kids, isn’t it?”.

Is it? Because I always thought Christmas was all about “peace, love and goodwill to all men”?

It used to be about loved ones drawing together, communities reaffirming ties and, above all, the one time of the year that the whole of society combined their efforts to ensure that every person; rich, poor, loved or alone, had an abundance of food, comfort and company, even if just for the day.

So go ahead, call me Humbug. I don’t care, having been called far worse in my time. Maybe it runs in the genes; my grandfather’s favourite seasonal saying was: “Christmas comes but once a year . . . so cheer up lads, it’ll soon be over”!

Or maybe I’m just cynical, but I saw a cartoon that sums it up, for me:

Little boy hands mummy his Christmas list, and says: ” It’s a very long list this year, mummy. You never know, it might be the last year that I believe in Santa!”

See, even the kids have sussed it!

Now I’m not handing the blame to children. The canny little rugrats can’t be blamed for taking advantage of the hollow parody we’ve created. But we allowed ourselves to get sucked-in by the hypnotic persuasion of the advertisers.

We tried to take a shortcut to togetherness - a time that once stood for inclusion, for breaking down barriers and embracing all, has ironically become a time of exclusion for many. A time that, instead of breaking barriers down, only emphasises and contributes to them, even more.

It was on Christmas Day, long ago, that two opposing armies, locked in mortal combat, stopped. By unplanned, mutual agreement, they put World War One on hold to walk across the muddy ground they would soon lose their lives for, and meet, in the middle of “no man’s land”.

A ceasefire was agreed, for one day, then they shook hands, exchanged awkward pleasantries, and in a heartbreakingly brave attempt at normality, played a game of football.

Afterwards, the carnage continued as though it had never been stopped.

Such was the strength of Christmas that battle-hardened men shared chocolate and played football with their sworn enemy, putting their lives in each other’s hands.

And throughout the game, not a shot was fired.

Such was the spirit of Christmas that it could move entire armies to lay down their guns in a spontaneous and true act of peace, love and goodwill to all men.

And it had nothing at all to do with shopping.

Inspirational Emma Suddaby shares her ” highs, lows - and various murky places inbetween” - with her weekly blog. Emma, a finalist in the 2007 Shropshire Star Woman of the Year competition, was diagnosed with aggressive, destructive rheumatoid arthritis at the age of 22. She has since won a dream flying scholarship with the charity Flying Scholarships for the Disabled and is now training for a National Private Pilot’s Licence.

* You can read Emma’s first blog, from last week, by clicking here.