I Hope I am a Scrooge This Year
The Christmas I was eight, I read A Christmas Carol for the first time.
Oh, I had heard of Ebeneezer Scrooge before. Captain Kangaroo had acted out a song about “the man who hated Christmas.” My father had grumbled about holiday duties at school with a “Bah! Humbug!” and my mother had called him an “old Scrooge.”
And when I read the book, he was right there: tight-fisted, unfair to poor Bob Cratchit, and alone and miserable on Christmas Eve.
But then, something wonderful happened.
He was humbled, turned to remembrance of his past blessings and past sins, and saw the error of the path he had taken.
And when he awoke on Christmas morning, to realize he had been snatched from the doom his life deserved, he was full of gratitude, charity, and the joyful sense of rebirth.
Even as an eight year old girl, I realized that Scrooge had gotten a bum rap.
Scrooge was NOT the miser, spoiling everyone’s Christmas fun. He was not the man who hated Christmas. He was the man who “kept Christmas” better than any other.
Why I want to be a Scrooge
I never fail to re-read this story at Christmastime, and watch several of my favorite versions, including the wonderful 1970 musical Scrooge, and the classic Alistair Sim movie from the 30s, and a particular favorite from my childhood, Mr. Magoo’s Christmas Carol.
And this year, of all the years, I hope I remember my blessings, and how I have been snatched from a rebellious doom, and given a Life I could never deserve.
May I, as Scrooge, live in joy, expressing charity and love in gratitude for the most holy gift of Christ and Christmas.