It’s not news that many people feel added stress during the holiday season, and that the commercial aspect of it can be very annoying. Christmas is a time when we are supposed to feel the presence of something divinely peaceful and forgiving, yet today our faith in humanity and/or God is deeply challenged by violence across the globe. Voices singing of Silent or Holy NIghts or Peace on Earth struggle to rise above the din of bombs in Ukraine, exploding boats in the Caribbean, and gunshots in Providence. And on the home front, folks worry about their finances.

The backdrop of a world weary of war and strife and desperate for a sign of hope during Christmas provides the setting for a generations old story. We put on a face for the children no matter how dire the circumstances – protecting their innocence is our greatest virtue. We decorate trees, hang stockings, tell stories about Santa and his reindeer, and, hopefully, remind them about Jesus. What has changed over the past few generations is the milieu of Christmas – the social and technological environment of our times.

More than a half century has passed since Christmas shopping was largely performed at local stores. Here, it was Murphy’s, Neisners, and Kresges, along with a smattering of shops at the D&F plaza and along the main streets in Dunkirk and Fredonia. One had to travel an hour or more to get to the larger “department stores” like Macy’s or Sears, or to specialty shops like Sam Goody records, KB Toys, or B. Dalton books. Some of us remember trips in a big old car sloshing/plodding through snow and sleet on the way to Hens and Kelly in Hamburg.

While we, as children, were consumed with visions of Rock Em Sock Em robots or GI Joe’s or Barbie Dolls, we had no idea what our parents were really thinking or feeling. In retrospect, I see a mother’s whiteknuckled hands on a steering wheel the size of a trash can lid.

She might be worried about the weather, or about finances, or about an alcoholic friend, or an infirm parent/grandparent, or a nephew who is eligible for draft into the developing war in Viet Nam. Or a family who recently lost a father. Or about where to take the family if the Russians were to launch a nuclear attack.

A generation later, we were still on the highways, but more frequently, and in faster, sleeker cars or SUVs as we headed to a mall in Erie or Buffalo. These were oases in the desert of winter. Adults and their small children journeyed through a safe and well-lit place amid the grand displays of Jesus in the manger and Santa’s reindeer. Teenagers gathered in small platoons near the food court. For all, it was an escape from burning Towers, from Baghdad and Afghanistan, from personal problems at home or in school, or from worries about loved ones suffering from drug addiction or other health problems.

The malls have been dying a slow but sure death over the past decade or two. They have lost their magic, and today, people prefer the convenience of ordering gifts online from home. Adults are very comfortable with the online shopping process as an extension of what they are already engaged in regarding both work and play. The worry here is about obsessive engagement in a virtual world and its ill effects. It is important to remember that the message of Christmas has to do with love. And to truly love others, whether parents, grandparents, children or friends, requires us to be with them here and now in the real world. Only here can we see in their eyes what their hearts are feeling. Only here can we hear in their voices what they are dreaming.

Call me a hippie, or an idealist, or ghost whisperer, but I’m going to say it anyway: Make an effort this holiday to spend more time with family and friends, and less on your device. Do a random act of kindness. Give a compliment or a pat on the back or a hug to someone who really could use it. Go outside in the cold and play in the snow (which includes shoveling). Share stories, fun ones and sad ones. Adopt a pet if you can provide for it.

Finally, carve out time to be by yourself. Not with your device, just you alone, say, at night in a quiet, candle lit living room where you can reflect on loved ones who have gone before you. Meditate with love, and Magic might happen! Someone might appear, sitting quietly, smiling peacefully in the chair across the room. Then, if for just a moment, you will know what everlasting life is all about.

Musician, writer, house painter Pete Howard lives in Dunkirk. Send comments to odyssmusic20@gmail.com