By Abe Villarreal
I like celebrating Christmas in the southwest because it's not the kind you see on TV and in the movies. No one is ever snowed in and there is no such thing as clearing the driveway. Most of us can't ever imagine experiencing a white Christmas. That's fine with me.
In the southwest, we have evening skies with all the colors of your favorite tree ornaments. You can't tell Christmas is coming from the weather, but you can feel it because the homes are a little cozier, a little fuller.
Sometimes, I feel like the rest of the country doesn't get us. No famous movie Christmas scene ever takes place in the beauty of the desert. It's always fireplaces and busy street scenes. Cars honking as they race past you. Even in the romance scenes where happy couples are strolling across neighborhood streets, people in the background can be seen working at all times of the day and night. It's all good, but it's not me.
People like to wear reindeer ears, not just because they fit the season, but they also fit our character. We like deer. They are majestic to see all year long. People wear ugly Christmas sweaters because their grandma made them, not because they need to stay warm.
In the southwest, we are a product of our environment. We are shaped by what the earth provides us. Tamales and champurrado. Menudos and posoles. Cafecito with everything. Christmas cookies, too. We call them biscochitos.
Christmas is a tradition that goes back thousands of years, and that's what we like in the southwest. We like to honor our past. Our ancestors built foundations that stand to this day. We celebrate the birth of our King in adobe homes. We sing carols and get together to learn how our native forefathers and foremothers celebrated.
Moms tell us how their moms prepared tamales for days and weeks. How their recipes have been mostly unchanged since time immemorial. At least that's how they remember it. People recite prayers that have been bookmarked in scriptures for generations. Sometimes new traditions start, too.
In the southwest, we love to be outside most of the day. The sun is our healer, the mountains do us some good, too. Pop culture makes us out to seem like we live where there is nothing but dirt and empty spaces. They're right to a certain degree, and it's why we like living here.
We can take deep breaths and not worry what we are breathing. We can go on walks and only hear the wind making its way up and down, side to side, swooshing in all directions. Christmas lights really stand out here when they are on a cactus all alone a desert path. What a sight!
Lumanarias can be seen, too. They represent fire, which is life, and that's what the meaning of Christmas is all about. The gift of life for all of us.
Here in the southwest, on our night before Christmas, there are many critters stirring, all through the house. Critters big and small. It's the way we live and how we've always lived.
The best part of Christmas in the southwest is nighttime. In some ways, we experience what it was like that fateful night over 2,000 years ago. In the darkness of the midnight hour, you can sit on your front porch and stare up into the sky. You'll see more stars than you can count, and one of them will be brighter than the others.
That bright star, if you follow it, will guide you to your maker. The little baby boy we honor each Christmas, here in the southwest.
Feliz Navidad.
Abe Villarreal writes about the traditions, people, and culture of America. He can be reached at abevillarreal@hotmail.com.