White Christmas

White Christmas is one of those songs (and movies) that just makes me happy. Having grown up in the Philippines, where the closest thing to snow was when Mt. Pinatubo blew and covered the surrounding islands with ash (and I missed it), I have not experienced nearly as much snow as most Americans. I was born in the middle of a Montana snowstorm one November afternoon, and my first Christmas was white. Obviously, I don't remember that. Since then, I think I have had two white Christmases. I love snow (but at the same time, have a healthy respect for it, and I try to avoid driving in it).

I'm not sure if "just like the ones I used to know" applies to me, but I'm sure it applied to Irving Berlin, who wrote the song...but even though most of my Christmases have been anything but white, I do have some happy memories of playing in the snow, and even just watching in awe as it fell. I think of times we've gone into the mountains to get a Christmas tree, making snowmen and snow angels, sledding down the slopes. Seeing the "treetops glisten" is an especially amazing part of a snowy day.

I don't write very many Christmas cards (I'm more into giving presents than cards), and sadly, I don't generally write "May your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmases be white." (It's usually more along the lines of "Merry Christmas!") But that's a great greeting. Maybe I should start writing that on all my Christmas cards.

UPDATE (12/15/2010): I just realized that Irving Berlin had an interesting way of writing. He says "WITH all my Christmas cards I write..." With, not in. I write with a pen or pencil. Maybe markers, crayons or chalk. I've even written with my fingers. I can't say I've ever written with a Christmas card, though. Mr. Berlin wrote with ALL his Christmas cards, or so he says. Fascinating.