Rhi Axtell – Writer

I’m a bit of a Grinch when it comes to Christmas nowadays.

At some point in my life, probably around university, the ‘magic’ of Christmas stopped working for me. Apparently this happens to everyone at some point.

It’ll come back! My mother keeps telling me in that voice she uses that suggests she knows everything.

I do know everything, Richard. – Richard’s Mum.

For the last few months, I have cringed at Christmas songs and rolled my eyes at Christmas trees. I’ve growled at people who wished me a Merry Christmas and I’ve snarled at every Christmas card I got through the door.

The magic, it seemed, was lost forever.

That was before the box.

It was an old box, brought up from a cold, basement room where the air smells like dust. It wasn’t a heavy box, but it was reasonably sized and it rattled when you shook it.

Inside the box were toys. Lego toys. Playmobile toys. Disney toys. Soft toys. Hard toys. Round toys. Square toys (you get the idea). They were all old and quite a few were broken beyond repair. These toys were a couple of decades old.

But when my fiancée saw them, she broke out into a huge grin. The toys, you see, were from her childhood. She spent the next few hours playing with them and sorting them with her sister as they chatted excitedly about the games they had played together, the names of the toys, the adventures the toys had been on. It was like the toys had been holding onto the joy from their childhood, only to release it to them now, years later.

That’s when I felt a little tingle of Christmas magic.

No, I’m not telling you to go out and buy lots of toys.

I think I lost the Christmas magic when I focused on buying presents. Every year it was a toil to buy more presents for my family. A list was made, a present for each family member was assigned, and on the day, presents were exchanged. Every day for the last few months, I have been bombarded from every angle from adverts telling me to buy more. Buy more. Buy. Buy. Buy!

As if that was the key to happiness. But it’s not: the toys in the box might have been old and broken, and yet they still brought true happiness. It was the memories and the joy associated with them that shone through – and new, shiny things could never have done that.

I guess what I’m getting at is that I’m going to focus less on the presents this year and more on the joy, the connections, the memories.

And hey, maybe this year will be one to remember.

Merry Christmas all.