The season comes upon us like a lake effect storm. The Thanksgiving Day parade of images – giant floating Disney cartoon heads, talking-head TV hosts, and platoons of football helmets – is suddenly blown away; we doze off for just a moment, then awaken to see that the sky has cleared, and images of red and green lights and Santa Claus and the lovely faces of Christmas movie stars fill the airwaves. Ubiquitous holiday songs and advertisements serve to remind us that this is a time of reckoning: It, too, shall be gone in the wink of a star, so how can we make the season memorable?

It is a matter of perspective. For little kids, Christmas is about Santa, reindeer, rooftops, candy, dolls and all kinds of toys and gadgets. They take oaths to behave better, they write serious letters and lists, and they imagine what they’ll find under the tree on Christmas morning.

Among teens and young adults, it’s a growing awareness of social reciprocity – the artful balance between giving and receiving. With that comes a renewed sense of belonging, of family connected-ness, and of being part of a shared experience that feels safe, warm, and seems to transcend everyday life.

It might even instill a sense of spirituality – that there is something lovely and mysterious and extraordinary beneath the surface, and if we are lucky and vigilant we might catch a glimpse of it.

But of course Christmas is not all warm and fuzzy. Families face multiple stressors during the holidays.

Heavy traffic and bad weather might threaten their lives as they travel to visit relatives.

More challenges arise after they reach their destinations, like sleeping in unfamiliar, awkwardly made beds with too many pillows and blankets, or pretending to enjoy food that tastes lousy, or being polite to annoying relatives, or fighting the urge to drink or smoke too much as desperate measures to find a comfort zone.

Even more complicated problems confront those families with divorced/remarried parents. Of course part of it is the extra (and seemingly obligatory) shopping expense required due to the extended family, which can turn into competitive gift buying among parents who want to gain favor. The greater challenge here is to manage instincts and emotions – to bury axes, to act humbly, to push away bad memories, and to at least try to practice the great Christian art of Forgiveness.

Christmas is an especially difficult time for those of us who lost loved ones during this season of overwhelming joy and sadness. Despite our numerous methods of distraction (i.e. multitasking), there will inevitably be those down times, those long moments when all becomes quiet, and his or her absence becomes almost palpable. The sense of loss returns, unmitigated, as though we are standing near the edge of a dark valley into which a part of our soul has fallen and will never return.

All Christians understand the concept of the Assumption and the Immaculate Conception. And to varying degrees we believe in it as integral to our faith and our acceptance of a mysterious and infinitely complex Greater Power. Of God. We know our human nature – our virtues and our vices, our victories and our failures, our ambitions and our limitations, our violent tendencies and our ability to heal. Like Buddhists, we understand the dualistic nature of existence; and like scientists, we know that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. So, as we contemplate our mortality, it seems there must also be immortality.

The birth of Christ made it possible that we can become better, more graceful people, and that death is merely a gateway to a greater existence. If that’s true, then I will venture to say that the miracle of Christmas is simply that we are still here, that we are able to love, and that the ones who’ve gone before us are in good hands.

Pete Howard, a teacher, musician, writer and house painter, lives in Dunkirk.