My Christmas Gift to You

My Christmas Gift to You
Rachel Birdsell

Rachel Birdsell

I know it’s hard to believe, but some of you aren’t fond of me. True story. I’ve been accused of being angry, a bitch, a loser, a bleeding-heart liberal, an idiot, a moron, a dummy, and, also, without even the slightest hint of irony, I’ve been told that I’m opinionated.

So, since it’s Christmas, and because I’m not completely unreasonable, I am extending a temporary olive branch. This week, I am refraining from writing about anything controversial, irreverent, or confrontational. Instead I’m making a list (and checking it twice) of things that are affable and pleasant. Who says Christmas miracles don’t happen? So, without further ado, here is my list of lovely, agreeable things that won’t get me in trouble with the readers who don’t really like me, but are still compelled to read this column.

Puppies. I won’t mention a specific type of puppy, because we all have opinions on which are the best. But puppies in general? They’re awesome.

I don’t want to be accused of hating kittens, so I’ll mention them, as well. I actually love kittens and puppies. Yes, I’m a cat and a dog person. Please don’t find that offensive.

Sunshine. Not the kind that gives you cancer, but the kind that makes your body produce Vitamin D, so you aren’t sad on a cloudy day. So that when it’s cold outside, you’ll have the month of May.

Rainbows….wait. Scratch that.

Grandmas and Nanas that smell like Coty Airspun face powder and lavender, and who bake you cookies, and pat you on the cheek.

Fluffy everything: clouds, cotton candy, marshmallows, frosting, pancakes, down comforters, baby goats, and Nana’s blue hair.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. Damn it. Now I have to mention something else about puppies. How about a puppy jumping out of a box on Christmas morning?

Butterflies, bluebirds and baby black bears that waddle when they walk.

Babies taking their first steps, six-year-olds with missing front teeth, old men whose eyes smile more than their mouth does.

Lollipops, gumdrops and pink ribbon candy.

Warm cinnamon rolls, fuzzy blankets and hot cocoa with whipped cream.

Bob Ross turning mistakes into birds and happy little trees, Mr. Rogers telling us he likes us just as we are, and Julia Child reminding us that it’s okay if it falls on the floor.

Having your favorite (or least favorite) columnist write, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

Rachel Birdsell is a freelance writer and graphic artist. You can reach ddher at

Categories: Commentary