Rather than it being a time of loving and giving, it has become a stressful season of greed. Amidst all the hustle and bustle, it is important for us to recognize the true reason of the season, and celebrate in a fashion that exemplifies that reason. Many people in American society assume that the main purpose of Christmas is the supposed coming of Santa Claus In fact what is Christmas.
When a person thinks of Christmas, the first thing that most probably comes to mind is the Christmas tree or Santa Claus or even presents. Christmas can be described in many ways but it is usually celebrated by millions of people according to tradition Research Papers words 2. Couples kissing, under this leafy, pretty plant.
You might even hear it mentioned in holiday songs and poems. The plant I am mentioning is mistletoe. The festive plant, mistletoe, is mostly known for a kissing tradition, however mistletoe has been very useful in medical events, cultures, and have affected various trees.
Mistletoe has been extremely beneficial to medical science throughout the ages. It has been known to help cure or relieve epilepsy, hypertension, headaches, menopausal symptoms, infertility, arthritis, and rheumatism Research Papers words 3. Christmas is around the corner, and kindness and happiness are full filling people souls.
Christmas Essays - Examples of Research Paper Topics, Introductions, Conclusions GradesFixer
The wonderful Christmas tree smell that invade the living room gives you the sense of being on a real mountain. Also, enjoying the snow from the window with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book give you so much peace to your inner self. Overall, Christmas sounds like a lovely time where everybody is full of joy Christmas is my favorite holiday because it is the time of year for loving, giving, and remembering who this holiday is for.
Christmas is my favorite holiday because it is the time of year that everyone should spend with their family and friends loving them unconditionally. Every Christmas, my family and I, on my mother 's side, join together on Christmas Eve to be able to spend time with the ones which we love Jay Mock is a conspiracy theorist.
Halloween Essay: What it is All About?
Open Document Click the button above to view the complete essay, speech, term paper, or research paper. Need Writing Help? The Tradition Of The Christmas Tree Essay - The tradition of celebrating Christmas with a decorated tree began long ago in pagan cultures in order to honor their gods All About the Christmas Tree and in some cases to worship the tree itself, but the purpose of the evergreen in festivities today is not rooted in paganism. Essay on Materialism and Commercialization of Christmas - Materialism and Commercialization of Christmas Today it seems as though Christmas has fallen victim to materialism and commercialization.
Christmas Is My Favorite Holiday Essay - December 25 is the time of year that everyone celebrates, but does not know the true meaning of this day. Is Santa Truly a Conspiracy? I try not to resent this unequal expectation. I am about as successful in this project as I am back home. When I gather the laundry for the small girl who does our wash, Ballah will scold me for including my underwear: You need to wash it yourself. I gasp. How come yours can be included then? He shrugs.
I am a man. I bowl over laughing, and he looks at me curiously. Being a light-skinned foreigner, just about anything I do will be seen as both acceptable and strange here. I am exotic — a Black American who married a Liberian and came back with their children to visit. People stare at us everywhere. It is exhausting. I long for the anonymity of home, to walk down a street without gawkers. Doors open for me on the not-unfounded assumption that I have money to pay for such special service. I withdraw money at the Lebanese-owned supermarket. Ballah is shrugged off when he makes the same request.
At the internet cafe, I get extra time. Ballah is booted off.
The U. Ballah still has a Liberian passport, which makes everything take twice as long. The only currency he has is in his relationships. This is significant, especially in a culture that values them highly, but it will only get you so far. We go swimming a few times during our visit, an activity that is antithetical to me during Christmas. We head to a resort that is popular with expats.
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The swimming pool is gorgeous, with a small upper level that Marwein insists I pull her around in and a larger lower level where Boisey splashes with Ballah and his uncles. Most Liberians could not afford to come here. When we take a break, we sit around fine wooden tables shaded by umbrellas made of palm fronds. We order expensive food. Some of it is Liberian — Palava sauce or goat soup with rice; most of it is American — chicken wings and leafy green salad.
When we finish, we change into dry clothes and feel instantly refreshed. Then we get back into the car to drive back to the compound, and the heat makes us hot and sticky again. Liberians talk about water spirits in the Atlantic that will pull you under without warning. This ocean already holds far too many bones of Africans. Every bit of my energy is directed to things like trying to talk to my in-laws, even when our respective accents form invisible but impermeable walls between us, and to finding the ingredients to make spaghetti for my son, who loves eating African food at home, but not every moment of every day in Liberia.
I am 22 and alone.
I am just out of college on a fellowship, walking the long S of an ocher dirt road in Ghana. This is my first trip to the continent, and it has been difficult. I have been called obruni, and every other kind of name for white person and foreigner available to West African tongues. The food here is a sticky, pasty, greasy substance called fufu.
It does not agree with me, and by the time I return home, I will weigh just pounds — less than I weighed at I keep envisioning cool, wet snowflakes landing on my cheeks, dissolving in an instant. The ache in my gut threatens to engulf me. We have finally broken. We are back; we are different and the same. We will make angels and snowmen, build Lego monstrosities with my brothers and their kids, drink hot chocolate by the fire. Maybe Boisey will ask my mother to cook snails as well as shrimp on Christmas Eve. Maybe I will let myself linger in the space of difference, love and loss, watching the all-encompassing history of nations swell in me in one moment, and the intimate history of a family from many homes rest in another.
It will be published by Dutton in She lives in Minneapolis with her children. Home All Sections Search. Log In Welcome, User. Minneapolis St.
Long and Short Essay on Christmas in English
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