Growing up, my family’s tree was what you might call eclectic. A mish-mash of glass balls, tinsel, twinkling lights, train-shaped light covers, aluminum reflectors, foam gingerbread houses, and what some might dub kitsch. Even the nativity scene was unique. My dad, who was somewhat of a handyman-in-businessman’s-clothing, had drilled a hole in the back of the wooden creche, poking a single Christmas bulb through so the holy family could be bathed with yellowish light. I loved that nativity scene. I loved that tree. In fact, some of my favorite Christmas memories involve sitting in the darkened livingroom around 3 a.m. staring at the tree, freezing feet tucked up and under my Hello Kitty nightgown.

I think it has a lot to do with my dad. He loved Christmas, and every ornament, it seems, has a story that relates to him like the nativity scene he fashioned or those foam gingerbread men and houses. They, for instance, came from Sears when I was just a baby. He had misplaced our box of ornaments so, on Christmas Eve, he went out and bought what he could find. Or the beautiful hand-blown ornaments from Germany that he and my mom bought their first year of marriage. Seeing those ornaments as well as the ones my mother collected over the years brings me back to my childhood livingroom, to a time when I was someone’s little girl. The light of someone’s life, being hoisted onto shoulders to place the pretty hanging glass onto the tree.

I guess that feeling is why I started collecting my own kitsch when I was 12 or 13 and why today, I have a closet full of ornaments. I have so many that I can’t even put all of them on my tree. I end up making decisions every year: what comes out, and what stays behind. Every single one has a story and a memory. The ones from my Jewish friends — the Swarovski crystal snowflake from S. The ornate enameled bear from L. The lightbulb-turned-snowman from J. There are the ones we picked up along the way — the buffalo from Buffalo that I got when I was pregnant with Big Girl. The pink sand-filled orb from our honeymoon in the Bahamas. The homemade ornaments from preschool. The bright parrot I bought in the Slone-Kettering gift shop the day my brother went home from his bone transplant surgery. The strange cowbell that my husband brought home from his month-long trip to Germany. The more recent acquisitions like the Hershey kiss from our trip with the game night friends. Some, however, are duplicates of the ones I grew up with that, over the course of the past decade, I tracked and won on eBay. Yes, those especially are the ones that always make me smile, remembering my dad. They are my own treasured reminders of the man who first inspired my always-growing collection.

It wasn’t easy locating and buying years worth of Christmas ornaments. After all, the gingerbread ornaments purchased at Sears in the 1970s didn’t have any markings. (I think I searched “vintage foam gingerbread houses.”) The giant glass balls from the 60s — when my parents were first married — certainly didn’t have a manufacturer inscribed on the bottom. (Again, I went with a really descriptive “vintage extra large blown glass balls.”) Neither did the plastic train-shaped lightcovers from the late 60s or early 70s. I think it took me about two or three months of slogging through thousands of listings before I found the right ones. The one exception was the silver and felt choir singers from the 60s. Those, at least, were marked “Made in Japan,” but they were still hard to find. It wasn’t until I added “spun cotton” to my search term that I found them.

Today, I have one of almost every single vintage item that adorns my mother’s tree. The strangest part is that I don’t hang many of them. Instead, I take them out, stare at them for a bit, and put them back into the boxes until next year. Oh, maybe I’ll put a single gingerbread house up and one of the large blown glass balls, but for the most part my current family memories — and after all, that’s really what my ornaments are — overwhelm my childhood family’s memories. Still, it’s nice having those memories in tangible form. It’s nice, as I did tonight, to be able to take out a memory, show it to my kids, and tell them all about the grandpa they never met.

My husband and I were looking at my busting-at-the-boughs tree the other night, talking about whether or not my girls will decorate like their mommy or go for a more cultured Christmas tree look. I hope they follow in my footsteps and go the cluttered route. There’s something to be said for having so many memories within arm’s reach.

It started last month when my friend turned 40. I went out and carefully picked a gift I knew she would love. (Weirdly, I have no problem buying gifts.) I got her two Pandora charms including a friends one. You know, the kind that has two parts? I figured she could keep on half and give the other to her mom or her little girl, both of whom she counts as best friends. Yes, she is one of my best friends, but I really thought she would share it with someone in her family. Instead, when she opened it she immediately said she was giving it to me. I was honored and excited. Soon after I got an invitation to her surprise birthday party, so I went out to buy a third charm for her to replace the half she was giving me. (I have a figure in mind when I buy gifts, and by giving me half, her gift didn’t hit that figure anymore.)

Okay, so here’s where it gets interesting. I have a Pandora bracelet, but it’s not real. I got it at one of those fake Pandora parties. Still, I didn’t care. Pandora is Pandora, right? Uh, not exactly. At my friend’s 40th surprise party as she was kissing everyone hello she stopped, sat down, and gave me my half a charm. I was really excited. I had a real Pandora charm, and one that signified a wonderful friendship. And yet as I sat there in the middle of her birthday bash trying to put my new charm on I encountered a problem: The fake Pandora bracelet does not accommodate real Pandora charms. Drat. At that moment I decided that, despite seven years of no Christmas gifts being exchanged between myself and my husband, I wanted a real Pandora bracelet. So I planted the seed, telling my husband that although we really don’t exchange, he could — if he wanted to — get me one thing. He could get me a blank silver Pandora bracelet. If he wanted to.

He took the hint and bought me what I wanted. I got it on Christmas morning, and had so much fun putting all my fake Pandora charms and my one real charm on it. It is beautiful.

On Christmas night I was lying next to Big Girl after tucking her in. She asked me about my birthday, which is approaching next month. And then it hit me. A strange feeling. A feeling that begged for another gift. And so I told her: “You can ask Daddy to get me a Pandora charm. You pick it out. And if Grandma asks, tell her to get me one, too.”

I’m still not one for big gifts. I don’t want diamonds or expensive stuff. I still get crazy when I take in more stuff than I’ve discarded. (I have to do a huge sort and purge after this Christmas, for example.) But I’m starting to see how nice it would be to get a pretty pair of black boots or one or two Pandora charms. Yes, I firmly believe it’s better to give than to receive, but receiving — every once in a while — is sort of nice, too.

What’s your favorite gift of the season? Do you exchange with your significant other? I’d like to know.

I noticed it earlier in the month, and it’s a trend that just hasn’t waned. The first sneaky salutation happened at A.C. Moore. Granted, I was buying ornaments for my Brownie troop, but still. The cashier at a large retail chain handed me my receipt and said it: “Merry Christmas! Enjoy!” I was so shocked I paused for a moment before saying it back to her. I walked out feeling very weird. After all, Merry Christmas, like Happy Hanukkah and Happy Kwanzaa, has been off-limits for a while.

It happened again in the liquor store. I was buying a bottle to bring to a holiday party. The nice, gray-haired woman in the Santa hat handed me my purchase (Patrón XO Café), and wished me a very Merry Christmas. Whoa. I glanced around. Wasn’t she afraid of the holiday police? After all, she could have offended someone. And since then it’s happened again and again and again. It even happened today at the end of an interview! The executive and his PR guy were on the phone. We’re wrapping up our call, and the exec goes there: “I’d like to wish you both a very Merry Christmas!” An exact quote since I record my interviews!

As someone who is an honorary Jew (three of my best friends are Jewish), I couldn’t believe it the first time or the last — and I’m Catholic! Sure, I expect it at church or from my religion students, but wow, to hear such a religious-sounding phrase uttered in public. Well, it was weird.

But you know what? Emboldened, last week I started wishing my friends who are Christian Merry Christmas and saying a belated Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish friends. I felt so naughty! It was an almost perverse pleasure to put it out there: We’re all different. We all celebrate different holidays, and we can acknowledge it, darn it! I even started looking for my Muslim friend at yoga so I could wish him a blessed Al-Hijira. (Take that, holiday police!)

Before anyone gets offended, I hope you realize that this was written with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek. Yes, the facts are all real and accurate, but I wasn’t as offended as I was flabbergasted. Was it the seemingly bipartisan legislation that’s inspiring everyone to take down those “holiday” blinders? (After all, the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is unprecedented.) Or maybe everyone is just shellshocked after watching E! Online’s Bridalplasty. (I know I feel numb and dazed after watching two episodes.) Who knows. Either way, I am actually really happy that Merry Christmas is making a comeback. I hope for the sake of my Jewish friends that more people feel so comfortable with our differences that they aren’t afraid to say L’shanah tovah next September 28. After all, it’s sort of silly to replace specific holiday greetings with the generic (and very annoying) Happy Holidays. If you KNOW I celebrate a specific holiday you should NOT be afraid to wish me a merry or happy or joyous one. Got it? Good.

How about you? Are you offended if someone says Happy Holidays? Or do you prefer it to the more exact tidings? I’d like to know.

1) There are 20 kids in Big Girl’s class.
2) The class moms get to go to every party.
3) Parents of children with food allergies get to attend parties automatically.
4) Only one other parent gets to go to the holiday party.
5) I was not “picked from the hat.”
6) I could think of a better way to handle parties.
7) I am not a happy camper, and yet, because I love my kid, I was up icing cupcakes with homemade, organic icing at 8:45 this morning.

Here’s my summary of my Christmas shopping, in bullet format.

• I can’t figure out what to get my brother.
• I absolutely love Amazon Mom, Amazon’s Prime offering for moms and grandmas. Free shipping rocks.
• We bought considerably more for Big Girl than we did for Little Girl.
• I still need to buy my mom a few more things, but can’t figure out what to buy.
• I hate plastic shipping peanuts.

Here are some other decisions I need to make, in numbered order:

1. Whether or not I will suck it up and drive my kid back to private school every day since, I’m sorry, but it’s true, I am not happy with our public school experience.
2. What to do about the fact that Big Girl came home crying yesterday telling me that some kids on the bus called her names with curses in them.
3. Whether or not I let Little Girl attend Big Girl’s Brownie meeting because she “really, really, really wants to go.” And it is going to be a lot of fun. (I love being a Brownie leader, even if I am creatively-challenged!)

If only all of my conundrums were as simple as number three…

Hope everyone is enjoying the season, whether you celebrate Christmas or Kwanzaa or Al-Hijira or have already celebrated Hanukkah…

Ever drive around on December 26? You’ll see bags and bags and BAGS of garbage. The amount of trash we produce grows exponentially during the holidays. What’s in most of those bags? Wrapping paper and cardboard packaging. But the front of your house doesn’t have to look like a trash heap since most of the stuff you throw out during the holidays can be recycled or composted.

Take wrapping paper. What’s it made of? Paper, of course. Paper like your old newspaper. Paper like the printer mistakes you recycle. Paper like your junk mail. You can recycle it by simply tossing it in with your regular paper recycling bin. The one exception: Foil wrapping paper, which should go into the regular trash.

There’s other waste, too. We open lots of cans of stuff, empty bottles of stuff, too. In the hustle and bustle of the day it might seem easier just to toss it in the trash. However, if you take the time today to bring your recycling bin into the garage (or place it outside the backdoor), it will be a lot easier to recycle and less tempting to trash.

And how about all the packing materials and cardboard you will inevitably find hanging around the house? Get rid of cardboard with your regular newspaper recycling. (Yes, all those doll and truck boxes, too!) Packing peanuts find a second life at places like Mail Boxes Etc. or the UPS Store. You can find the closest place that accepts them at the Plastic Loose Fill Council’s Web site.

Holiday food such as coffee grinds, fruit, unbuttered veggies, and bread can find a second life in your compost bin.

And what about the scads of plastic bags we generate around this time of the year? Take all the plastic bubble wrap, air wrap, plastic bags from toys and electronics — even dry cleaner bags and good old shopping bags — to a store like Lowes or CVS or your local supermarket where you can recycle them in the plastic bag recycling bins. Not sure where your local plastic bag recycling location is? Check out the American Chemistry Council’s Plasticbagrecycling.org.

And when the dust clears and you’re looking to get rid of your old electronics to make room for your new DVD player, smart phone, or PC? Please be kind to your fellow man and dispose of it properly since all of the above have heavy metals and all sorts of toxic, nasty substances inside. Check out the Environmental Protection Agency’s listing of resources online.

Sunday my mom called me, asking when I was going to pick up the gifts we had left behind. (My Hybrid Escape has a small trunk, and the back seat is filled with two huge car seats.) “And are you really not going to let the girls have their nice chocolate pops,” she wanted to know. I felt the anger rising. Here we go again, I thought.

My mother is an organics naysayer. She doesn’t get why I make “such a fuss” over everything being organic. Her usual retort when I race in to keep her from giving them something outrageously bad: “You ate this stuff for years and you turned out okay.” Sigh. She is so bad that she will lie right to my face when it comes to food. “Mom, is there any meat in this sauce?” No, she’ll tell me even as I see the chunks of pork swimming in the gravy. (Italian for tomato sauce.) As many times as I explain that I don’t want my kids eating conventional meat or dairy, she will poo-poo what I say. And when I outright ban lollipops made in China or cute plastic cups from the dollar store that are probably dripping with BPA? She calls me the food Nazi, and accuses me of trying to give my kids an eating disorder. It’s very frustrating and disheartening.

She’s right about one thing: We did eat and drink plenty of stuff that my kids can’t eat today. But there is a big difference. Many of the additives and chemicals in our foods today didn’t exist when I was a child. You didn’t find high fructose corn syrup in cereal or ketchup when I was little. You didn’t have BPA in plastic baby bottles or vegetable bags. Heck, I think I had glass baby bottles, and I can clearly remember that all our veggies were either fresh from the produce section or came in those little cardboard boxes wrapped with wax paper.

But I digress. Back to hanging up on my mom. Again, it was wrong, and I was childish. However, it just drives me mad to have to not only defend my parenting skills, but also have someone who doesn’t read the studies I do telling me that what I am saying is wrong. Sorry, Mom, I’ve got science on my side for these things. Still, my mom isn’t getting any younger. I am going to try really hard not to hang up on her anymore. And I am going to make an effort to be patient and kind. But I’ll be damned if I am going to let my kids eat possibly tainted lollipops or meatballs made with conventional beef that probably came from ten different sources. I’m the mom, and in this case I am doing what I think is right. Mom, you had your chance. It’s my turn now.

My gifts, all lined up and ready to ship.

I came to my current gift decision after weeks of research and thinking. I needed to figure out what to send, and how to send it. I mulled over questions such as which delivery method would be the greenest. As for my gift choice: Would it be better to buy something locally or order from Hickory Farms as I have in past years? What would create the smallest carbon footprint? Would it be fruit, which almost always flies to its destination in a refrigerated container, or a box of chocolate or candy? If I wanted boxed treats, how could I be sure they didn’t come a long way or create their own huge footprint on their way to my office?

I decided to first take on the idea of which shipping method would be better. That might educate my gift choice, I thought. While looking around for information about calculating carbon footprints, I found a really nice resource in GreenShipping.com, a site created by the founder of HitchSource.com. The site lets you log in, enter tracking numbers from UPS, FedEx, and USPS, and see the carbon footprint of your shipping activities. Once you know, it lets you buy carbon offsets — purchases that fund new emissions-reducing projects such as wind power, solar energy, and reforestation projects — so you can become a zero footprint shipper. Since I didn’t know what I would be sending out, I used two packages I had recently sent as my control group: A 1 pound, 5 ounce book I sent from New York to Utah, and a 2.6 ounce bath seat that went from New York to Texas. My carbon footprint on the book was less than a pound. It traveled via truck, I found out from the site, and it was only transferred once during the process. Not so bad. The bath seat went Priority. It flew to its destination, racking up seven pounds of CO2. Okay, so I’d be shipping whatever I was sending via USPS, and I’d probably do best sending it myself. I’d cut down on carbon released during flights, and I could make sure that I kept the packaging levels down — no nasty foam peanuts, no extra gift wrap, no plastic bubble wrap.

Then came the gift decision. I wanted to send candy. Something light and delicious. Something that would make people happy, and look like I took some care when purchasing it. The problem, however, is that all the good candy I found at Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods came from France and Hungary and Germany. When I tried to find local chocolate — most of the gifts are going to people in New York, Pennsylvania, California, or Illinois — I got major sticker shock. One local NYC company wanted $85 for the tiniest basket! I really needed to keep the gifts under $40 because the IRS only allows me to write off $25, and most companies don’t allow their employees to accept gifts that cost more than $25-ish.

By now you are wondering: Did I go with the amazing truffles and chocolates in minimal packaging that had already flown in from Europe, or go with gifts purchased locally that would undoubtedly come packaged with plenty of waste, which would end up in landfills? Such a tough decision. In the end, I decided to pack my own gift boxes, using the imported chocolates. A wise move? Who knows? For me, the decision came down to the packaging. Sure, I could buy something that came from a closer vendor, but I knew from previous experience that I would rather create less waste and offset the flights used to bring my chocolate gifts in than send something that would end up in a landfill. And next year? I’m going to do something that I’ve heard other freelancers do: Make my own chocolates, and hand-deliver them to all my NYC clients, mailing the rest.

Did I make the right decision? What did you do about vendor and client gifts this year? Did you do anything differently this year than you did in past years? I’d love to hear about it.

Charlie Brown gets brow-beaten and screamed at. Do you want your kids watching that kind of garbage?

This morning I woke up and checked Facebook like I always do. My sister’s status update made me laugh:

“So, we watched Rudolph tonight and it was harsh! Santa made fun of Rudolph, and yelled at Rudolph’s dad for hiding the fact that he was a freak. Rudolph’s dad told his mom to stay home because it was a man’s job. Yukon Cornelius was packing heat. Hermey the elf was obviously gay, and kicked out of the elf club AND he pulled out all the Abomoinable Snowman’s teeth to save his friends. All the toys that were different were sent to the Island of Misfits. Way to teach kids tolerance!”

I smiled and laughed, but realized my sister was right. There is no way that original storyboard would have made it past today’s network execs. In fact, very few of the Christmas specials would have made the cut. Santa Claus is Comin’ To Town? The Burgermeister guy was mean! A baby is left sitting on a doorstep, and shuttled off to the orphan asylum except the wind takes him! Kids forced into hard labor! No toys! Then Kris sneaks into people’s homes. Really? How frightening! And most of the characters end up in a dungeon!

We watched the Grinch last night. (TiVo is a wonderful thing when your kids go to sleep at 7.) I was scared of his red eyes. And the fact that he was pantless, and breaking into people’s homes. I spent the entire time making fun of it to my husband. (Quietly, of course.) We both cracked up when the narrator said the Grinch “whizzed down the mountain with his load.”

Frosty the Snowman is equally as scary. Kids who run away. Frosty worries that Karen, the heroine, is going to die of the cold. She looks like she’s going to, too. The mean magician locks them both in the greenhouse and Frosty does die. And A Charlie Brown Christmas? None of those Charlie Brown cartoons are “appropriate” by today’s standards. The kids want money and real estate for Christmas. (Remember that line? “Just send money. Particularly tens and 20s.”) And the screaming and calling of names! Just terrible! But the most egregious part is probably the fact that they tell the Christmas story. The actual one. Religion and television don’t mix today unless you’re talking about FoxNews. (J/K)

I’m really glad I get to watch these shows with my daughter. She was so cute last night, noticing something I didn’t: “Wow, that Grinch is not nice to his dog,” she told us. She was right. She’s never seen a character whip an animal before. It was a good way to discuss animal violence, and how we want her to act. Still, I am the same person who commented on a friend’s very long Facebook thread about the appropriateness of having 5- and 6-year-old children at an adult’s movie. (The movie in question was 2012) I am against it. I don’t think children should ever be exposed to true violence before the age of 13. The experts agree or they wouldn’t have created the PG-13 rating.

Back to my very un-PC Christmas specials. I think it’s rather funny that, if the above movies were up for consideration today, they would probably need many changes to get past the network censors. And parents would applaud them. And yet the majority of Americans wouldn’t think twice about letting their kids see an obviously adult movie. We, as a society, are raising kids who aren’t allowed to lose, are coddled and cushioned, and yet are given free reign to see the most egregious violence out there. It’s a scary world, readers. And not just because there’s a guy on my TV trying to kill a snowman.

Did you love the Christmas specials as a child? Which was your favorite? What do you think about them today? Do you let your kids watch TV specials? How about PG or PG-13 movies? Tell us your story.

Little Girl is going to love getting this on December 25th.

I’m posting this late today. My kids slept until 9:10 a.m. We were woken up by my friend Lori. Every year she wakes up at 3:30 a.m. to go brave the Black Friday sales. I texted her last night, asking if she could pick up something from Kohl’s for me. A Barbie cruise ship that was selling for $29.99 down from $80. And so she was calling at 9 to report in on her buys, and to break bad news. By the time she made it to the toy department (at 4:20 a.m.), all the allotted cruise ships had sailed. They were all gone, she said. “Everyone had them in their carts. It was crazy,” she explained.

I don’t feel so bad, though. This year, especially, when so many people are hurting, I don’t want to go too crazy with my kids. They have so much, and Little Girl, especially, is too young to care. Chris, my husband, said we should wrap up some of the old toys we have put away from Big Girl. Little Girl wouldn’t know the difference. I also feel, as someone who is out here on a daily basis talking about reducing carbon footprints, and saving the planet that I should be buying more environmentally-friendly gifts. Avoiding plastic and things with excessive packaging. So while most of you are already all shopped out for the day, here are some good sites to find eco-conscious kids’ toys and gifts.

• This, That, Other Things Want to know what I am buying from this site? Organic play-doh. Little Girl loves using all the tools and molds we have, but I am always given a pause when I see the bright colors and slightly chemical-y smell of traditional molding dough. This stuff isn’t as bright as the day-glo colors kids might be used to, but I have a feeling the smell will make up for it. LOVE smelly dough! (It’s out of stock right now, but I will keep checking in on it. And yes, I know I can make my own, but I want something that looks professional under the Christmas tree.) See something you like? The company just sent me some coupon codes! BLACK15 for 15% off purchases over $50 and BLACK 20 for 20% off purchases over $150!
• Franklin Goose. I love when I find a true gem while Web browsing. This site, which pledges to stock  products that are “natural, organic, or made of recycled materials. Paint will be lead free. We will carry no electronic or synthetic toys,” is a breath of fresh air. Plus, it’s got a huge selection! Furniture, diapers, feeding items, clothing, bath & potty, books and DVDs. I was instantly impressed. And now I’m about to go buy a few natural training pants, soy crayon rocks, and the Plan musical band.
• Amazon.com I stumbled upon this list of more than 1,100 organic and natural toys. I figured the folks at Amazon are not dummies. If the rest of the world is selling environmentally-friendly items, why shouldn’t one of the biggest online retailers? I loved that I could search by age, price, or interest. The Idbid organic stuffed raindrop looks so cute! I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that the company is less wasteful this year than it has been in years past. (Tiny game in huge box ring any bells?)
• Fat Brain Toys. Even before I was an organic convert, I loved this site. They have toys that are more educational. That let kids use their imaginations. So I was really happy when I saw the company had added a Green category to its site.
• Your Local Shop. Of course, the best way to buy something is locally. Less packing materials, fewer cars, trains, and planes delivering it. More support of local vendors. That’s why I love the Breaking the Chains Buying Guide assembled by the Organic Consumers Association. Enter your Zip code, and find local merchants for all your gift-buying needs.

Know a site I’ve missed? Please let me know. And happy shopping! Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. Check back over the weekend when I’ll be updating my Crunchy and Green section (look at the tabs at the top of the page) with all the green and eco-related news of the week.

Christmas is about more than just signage, right?

I got a press release from the American Family Council yesterday. It called for a boycott of all Gap-owned stores because The Gap refuses to use the word “Christmas” in its holiday advertising including in-store displays. The boycott is running from November 1 through Christmas day. I have a problem with this on so many levels.

Now, let me state for the record that Christmas is one of my favorite holidays. We are Christians, and we observe. My older daughter is already talking about how many days are left until the big day. We even plan our yearly vacation to Disney around the holidays so we can share the breathtaking Candlelit Processional with the girls. It’s such a beautiful way to reinforce the story of the Nativity. However, as someone who celebrates Christmas, I don’t think that I need to jam my holiday down anyone’s throat. Especially when it comes to their shopping experience.

You’d think an organization that calls for family values would agree. Since when is Christmas — or any of the December holidays — supposed to be about commercialism and presents anyway? Some of my Jewish friends have the same problem. Hanukkah is all about those eight presents now. A miracle in a cave? Not so much anymore. And this year especially, when 10 percent of the U.S. workforce is out of a job, materialism should be downplayed as much as possible. I know first hand how Christmas signs can actually make someone feel worse about the holiday.

I was remind of this on Saturday. We were at a good friend’s daughter’s birthday party. Moms and dads waiting around for the party to end. We were talking about presents. We started with birthday gifts and moved onto the topic of holiday gifts. One mom said something to the effect of could we imagine how it must feel to actually need Christmas presents. I piped up that I could, actually, and felt tears stinging my eyes. When we were little — right after my dad died — there was a year we didn’t have too many gifts from Santa under the tree. My older brother, ten years my senior, was a volunteer firefighter at the time. Hearing about our plight, someone at the firehouse dropped gifts on our front lawn that Christmas morning. Gifts my mom wouldn’t have been able to buy. They fell out of Santa’s sleigh, we were told. And that, my wonderful friends over at American Family Council, is what Christmas (and Hanukkah and Kwanzaa and Eid al-Adha) is all about.

Who cares if there’s a Merry Christmas sign in the Gap? I don’t. I care more about how we, as a country and a people, treat each other. And a sign isn’t going to make, for example, someone donate a toy or sweater to someone in need. It’s not going to get someone to hold a door open for someone who doesn’t have a free hand. It’s certainly not going to convert an atheist to a Christian, or remind someone in a fit of shopping frenzy why they celebrate their holiday to begin with.

So to all those calling for a boycott of Gap I say this: Get a life and start worrying about things that actually matter. People in need. Kids who won’t have a holiday celebration this year. Elderly folks who will go to church alone on Christmas morning. Soldiers who will miss out on lighting the Shamash with their children. Sick people who will spend Kwanzaa sitting in a hospital bed. Even if you got your wish and Old Navy stores displayed 20-foot technicolor Christmas signs, it’s not going to change how those hurting, sad, lost people feel. Instead of complaining about signs, wouldn’t it be better to call on your 2.6 million members to do good this holiday season? Because in my book, that’s the true meaning of Christmas.

Do you support the boycott of Gap? How do you feel about public demonstrations of Christmas or other religious holidays?