Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth; that can transport the sailor and the traveller, thousands of miles away, back to his own fire-side and his quiet home!
At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May’s new-fangled shows
Christmas it seems to me is a necessary festival; we require a season when we can regret all the flaws in our human relationships: it is the feast of failure, sad but consoling.
Fine old Christmas, with the snowy hair and ruddy face, had done his duty that year in the noblest fashion, and had set off his rich gifts of warmth and color with all the heightening contrast of frost and snow.
A lovely thing about Christmas is that it's compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together.
There was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning He was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a Rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, He had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when He sat wedged in the top of the Boy’s stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming.
Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.
It was the beginning of the greatest Christmas ever. Little food. No presents. But there was a snowman in their basement.
At Christmas every body invites their friends about them, and people think little of even the worst weather. I was snowed up at a friend’s house once for a week. Nothing could be pleasanter.
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house / Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; / The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, / In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there[.]
At one time, most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years passed, it fell silent for all of them. Even Sarah found one Christmas that she could no longer hear its sweet sound. Though I've grown old, the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe.
Christmas day is the children’s, but the holidays are youth’s dancing-time.