When Words Lose Their Meaning. Or actually get a better one.
It’s Christmas Eve.
This morning, so far, I’ve had two Hindu and one Muslim co-worker say to me “Merry Christmas.” The agnostic expresses “God bless you.” and the lapsed Catholic, with a hug and smile shouts out “Jingle Mah Bells, Mutha Fuckah”.
Perhaps it’s because I work in a non-hypersensitve, non-uberPC, environment, folks aren’t as afraid to have thier candy canes and tanenbaum’s out. Crosses. Stars of David & Stars guiding the way for 3 wise men adorn the napes of folks milling about the office. I would not be surprised if a Ganesh showed up in a cube. Nor a Quan Yin. Both with waxy green & red holly wreaths beneath their feet.
Holiday cards from co-workers include the word’s “God Bless you” and one girl has an image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in her cubicle. No one’s offended. No one mentions anything. Everyone seems just glad to be kind to each other.
“Merry Christmas” in this environ, as a statement, has come to signify less in terms of the aknowledgement of the birth of Jesus Christ, and more of a signifyer of good will toward’s one another, cheer, and a wish for love, kindness, and promise.
It’s not such a bad thing to have the heart behind the words transcend the intention of the original etymology. In fact, it’s making this Christian/lapsed Catholic heart a little warmer for being able to recognize that.
Happy Holidays Mutha Fucka’s.
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