Christmas-holic inspired by 'Wonderful Life'
Mon, 12/21/2009
"Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives, and when he isn't around, he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?"
-- Clarence Oddbody, A-S-2 (Angel, Second Class)
Hello. My name is Lauri and I am a Christmas-holic. I love it - the whole deal. The cheesy decorations. The Christmas cookies. The caroling. The lighting of the tree in town.
And so much of Christmas for me has always been the movies. I had a crush on Rudolph's Hermy the elf when I was 10 (he actually made it sound cool to want to be a dentist.) I know every line of Linus's speech to Charlie Brown and the gang.
But nothing meets the needs of a seasonal addict like good old Bedford Falls.
What great lessons George Bailey can gives us - and our children. The importance of friendship? See Clarence the Angel, who dedicates Tom Sawyer to George with, "Remember, no man is a failure... who has friends."
Good perspective on wealth? How about when Harry the war hero says, "A toast! To my big brother George, the richest man in town."
The movie is full of wonderful sentiments, admirable values, and the pure love and joy of small town America.
This year I am thinking of the movie even more. After eight years of running my own public relations business I have decided to go work for someone else full-time again (anyone who has run a small business in 2009 understands!). I am one of the many people out there looking for jobs. It is surreal and challenging to be one of the many people applying for jobs right now.
The competition is stiff. My friends who are hiring tell me it is overwhelming, the number of responses they receive from incredibly qualified people. It feels like a lot of pressure to people, and not exactly the way you want to feel during the holidays.
Still, I know it is the right decision for me, and I am excited about what is ahead.
But like I said, the competition is stiff, and so many people are unemployed right now. So applying for jobs isn't what it usually is.
After I was disappointed about one job I unsuccessfully applied for, a good friend told me, "Don't be discouraged. Think of the economy."
Once I was reminded that I am making my career change amidst the worst economy since, oh, 1929, I felt a bit better.
But in an effort to pull myself away from these thoughts and inject some much-needed holiday spirit into my heart and mind, I think of "It's a Wonderful Life."
George's problems put mine to shame. His business was going under. He was headed for jail. He was punched at a bar. And don't even get me started on having to work with Uncle Billy.
When did Christmas become about the money? When did I start needing to spend so much money on presents, or go away for a week's vacation after Christmas, or go out to holiday drinks with friends again and again?
Was George about to do those things?
I mean, really, we will all survive this time. We need to think of things like our children, how healthy and happy they are, how much of a difference we have made in the lives of others.
My beloved movie tells me, as it does every year, that fame, wealth and prestige aren't everything. Potter had those - and he didn't seem such a happy guy.
George helped others selflessly for years - he was a good neighbor. He was a good father. He cared about his community.
What an amazing world it would be if every child saw this movie - and took from it lessons into the future.
So this year I will watch my movie with new eyes. I will watch it with my three amazing children, and my ridiculously loyal and supportive husband. I will think of it when I thank friends who have listened and supported me over the last year. I will think of it as I reach a bit deeper into my pocket during toy and food drives.
Things could really be so much worse.
I will be reminded of the simple saying hanging in the wall of Peter Bailey's office. The camera scans to it when George runs to his dad to ask advice about Old Man Gower, the druggist. By its measurement, George and his dad were enormous successes in life.
I would like to measure my life in the same way one day:
"All that you take with you, is that which you give away."
Merry Christmas, you wonderful old building and loan.
Lauri Hennessey has written this column for a decade, and is finding the true meaning of Christmas by the time you read this. You can reach her at lauri@hennesseypr.com