Letter to the Editor

((I wrote this at work Sunday afternoon and plan to send it to the editorials at the Journal as soon as I have a minute to spare. But seeing as it probably will never be printed and many of my readers are outside of Edmonton anyways, I wanted to post it here for your viewing pleasure.))

Working in a retail store around the Christmas holidays can be one of the greatest exercises in frustration and disillusionment for a, generally happy-go-lucky, university student. Since mid-to-late October I have watched hundreds of people come through my store, spending copious amounts of money on books and toys they feel required to buy, often for children of friends or family they barely know. While I commend their decision to give gifts that are more lasting and likely to make an impact on a kid's childhood memories that this year's Tickle-Me-Elmo or Furby equivalent, when these shoppers are unable to provide me with an age or set of interests for the children in question, I can't help but wonder about the commercialization that now surrounds Christmas. I have never been a particularly religious person so I can't imagine how devout Christians must feel to see the birth of their prophet bastardized with candy canes and stocking stuffers, but I know how I feel. I feel like I'm watching a train wreck, most days; as though I can not tear my eyes away from these people rushing around, stressed and freaking out, trying to accomplish so much in such a short period of time. People have become so obsessed, it seems, with having a picture-consumer-perfect Christmas that they have forgotten that Christmas is about love, peace, family, friends and happiness.

This afternoon a gentleman came into my store and spent $100 on brand-new books and toys to be taken to 'Santa's Anonymous.' All he asked was that I picked out books for him that would make some kid's day on Christmas morning. I was touched by the fact that this man would care deeply enough to spend, what seems a lot of money for a student on a budget, on people he knew nothing about and had no connections to. As cheesy as it may sound, I did feel as though my faith in humanity and in the idea of Christmas was being slowly rebuilt. I spend much of my life wishing people would care more about the world around them, especially in the face of new global crises arising on a daily basis but am sadly disappointed again and again.

Mr. M. Merrifield, thank you. With only one month left until the "big day," I feel much better about facing the onslaught on customers I expect to see before then. I can almost guarantee that I will become frustrated and disappointed in the system again before Christmas arrives but, for now, I will be holding onto the idea that there are still good people in the world. Merry Christmas…