As a child I never understood the connection between "peace" and the holiday season. I knew our Jewish friends as well as our Christian ones exchanged the word in holiday greetings, but I was certainly never at peace. In fact, I was far from it. The multicolored lights flashing and the anticipation of family parties and gift giving lent itself to anything BUT peace. Joy maybe, but definitely not peace.
Later, as a classroom teacher, mother and part-time casino dealer, peace was never a consideration. I juggled time at winter break to catch up on grading papers for my 200-plus students, write thank you notes for the myriad of student gifts, and deal cards or dice at night, as well as prepare holiday activities for my own two young sons.
Dealer friends with children would share tales of very UNpeaceful holiday plans and events, "And after I pick up the kids at 2 a.m., how am I supposed to get them back to sleep so I have time to finish wrapping the last few presents?" My friend Lynn was awakened at 6 a.m., after waiting for the kids to fall asleep, by three teary-eyed youngsters wailing about Santa forgetting them that year.
"Oh, that silly Santa. He must have forgotten his key. I'll bet he left your presents downstairs in Aunt Jenny's apartment. I'll just call her. No, stop crying now. I'm sure it's just some silly mistake." She started to leap up out of bed, then stopped, realizing the gift wrap and tape were stashed under the covers, just inches from her 4-year-old's bottom. Instead she carefully stretched over to the other side of the bed and grabbed the phone.
"Hello, Jenny. Umm I think Santa had a little trouble last night and um could you Yeah! Can you believe it? Oh, thanks a bunch! You're a dear!"
"Well, guys, not to worry. Jenny's got the stuff and will be right up! There we go now! I just KNEW there had to be some mistake."
Peace? Comfort and joy? Not then, surely.
The frenzy of holiday work in a casino, with the looming dread of the inevitably rowdy and sometimes abusive New Year's Eve crowd, would overshadow the peace of the season. Have you ever wondered who might want to spend the last moments of Christmas Eve in a casino?
One Christmas Eve a disgruntled loser decided to flip the roulette table, chips and all, with one mighty Hulk-like lunge. As I picked and sorted chips from the floor, I silently wished him something far more noxious than peace for the holiday season.
As a classroom teacher I witnessed my middle-school students, at the juncture between child- and adult-hood teeter-totter between toy-joy anticipation and popular adult-fare holiday entertainment. "How was your winter break?" brought a variety of responses, usually associated with an accumulation of money/material possessions and/or breadth and range of experience, such as travel, movies, concerts or other forms of teen entertainment. Few, if any of those experiences could be defined as acquiring the elusive holiday peace.
As I worked with parents at my son's pre-school co-op, they shared their carefully handcrafted holiday greeting cards. Most were at least mildly amused by my Christmas card design consisting of a wild-eyed, feather-plucked dove, who vaguely resembled a crazed chicken, shrieking, "Peace? Who's got peace? Not me, for heaven's sake! I hope YOU find some peace. Happy holidays."
While not the same brand of cynicism as Scrooge, the hint of humbug was surely there.
Now that my children are grown and I no longer need to hold down two jobs to make ends meet, have I solved the puzzle of holiday peace? No, I'm afraid I will never be wise enough to understand all that its profound message entails. But I DO know there is more to it than sitting quietly and obediently in church. And it's more than simple silence and the absence of chaos.
It comes from a life that allows time and space to understand, reflect and react to our world. And it comes with satisfaction and respect for the ordinary as well as the profound.
And so amidst the holiday tidings of comfort and joy, I wish you the exquisite gift of peace and not just the immediate break from confusion in terms of quiet time or reflection, but the deeper sensibility of peace that comes from that calm inner voice that provides a beacon for life's journey. May peace find and guide you safely on your way.
Joan Taylor is an evaluation consultant for the Nevada Department of Education and an instructor at the University of Nevada, Reno.
