Unearthing my Christmas decorations this year was no easy feat. There were stacks of festive decor to rifle through: Halloween, Ramadan, Eid and a lone, oversized, straw heart that I like to bring out on Valentine’s Day. Our fake, silver Christmas tree was behind all the containers of holiday paraphernalia, together with ornaments, ribbons and fairy lights.
Like preparing for any holiday, decorating for Christmas is magical. Cinnamon-scented candles flickering; Christmas classics on the old, scratched iPod; Baby A running off with as many ornaments as she can manage; Mr T checking his reflection in the mirror every five minutes to make sure that his Santa hat is jauntily tilted just so – the evening was perfect and only lacked a pot of thick cocoa simmering on the stove.
It’s not just that I love Christmas, despite being a Muslim who, some believe, has no business celebrating the season. Muslim Arabs who deck the halls and wrap the presents and stuff the stockings are sometimes seen as an abnormality by other Muslims, Christians and Jews alike. Neighbours who have walked into our home in past years have automatically assumed that we’re Christian because of our twinkling tree.
Christian friends who know that we are Muslim have shown uncomfortable surprise: “You don’t even celebrate Christmas, what do you have a tree for?” And Muslim friends have admonished and sniffed at us: “Do you even bother to make that big of a deal out of Ramadan and Eid?”
Well, yes, actually. I like to make a big deal out of every happy occasion that happens to call for decorations and celebrations and a genuine feeling of happiness and warmth. With Ramadan and Eid, it’s a religious, happy time for us. With Christmas, it’s more about the spirit of giving that comes with it, not to mention all the beautiful decorations and delicious food. Similarly, with Halloween, it’s about the thrill of donning a fun costume. Thanksgiving is the chance to express thanks over a generous meal.
I see nothing wrong with dotting my year with celebratory moments that bring joy and festivity into a home. I want my daughter growing up embracing that celebratory feeling, regardless of whether it stems from a religious connotation or a consumerist one. Any excuse to have fun can only mean a happy childhood awaits, doesn’t it?
Before choosing to go all out for Christmas, I asked myself what message I would be sending Baby A. Will it confuse her? Will it break apart the faith that I hope to nurture in her, which sustains her father and I? Will I be able to teach her that religion is her blanket and God is her creator, while still allowing her the childhood thrill of believing in Santa Claus and his elves and reindeer, and the Tooth Fairy and maybe even the Easter bunny? I don’t see why not. I don’t want her growing up confused, but I also don’t want her to scoff at any holiday that celebrates giving and receiving just because we’re Muslim.
There’s no denying that the Christmas I’m creating in our home is not the one where Bible verses are read nightly. Christmas Eve for us will not be about mass at church; it’s more about watching Home Alone for the umpteenth time. But that doesn’t mean Baby A will not learn to respect the different religions. And she will learn that in our particular family, we celebrate Christmas simply because it’s such a fun and happy time.
Hala Khalaf is a freelancer living in Abu Dhabi
[ artslife@thenational.ae ]
