First of all, as you may have figured by now, I do not celebrate Christmas. When I was a kid, we didn't decorate for Christmas either. No lights. No tree. We weren't Christian. And we didn't feel bad or slighted in the least. We happily dragged out our plastic, electric menorah and twisted a new orange bulb into each socket with each new night of Chanukah. My mom would give my brother and me a token Chaunkah gift, usually chocolate coins and underwear or a pair of socks. My parents were both in the retail business and Christmas was a convenient day-off for holiday gift-giving. And considering the haphazard arrival of Chanukah, we could always count on December 25 coming the same time every year. But, I knew that there was no Santa. My mom would take me with her when she shopped for gifts for my brother and me. She always used the same "present hiding place" every year, the back of her closet. And I looked there every year. One year, I even caught my mom and dad assembling some toys for my brother and me. Plus, we didn't have a fireplace. Our chimney lead to a closet in the den that housed our furnace. But, I also knew it wasn't Christmas and I knew weren't celebrating Christmas.
When I was an kid, I sat on Santa's lap and had my picture taken. Sure, I watched "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" and "Year Without a Santa Claus" and "A Charlie Brown Christmas" every year. All of my non-Christian friends watched these shows, too. And we enjoyed them. I always thought Winter Warlock was cool.
And, although I am not a fan of holidays, I have never been offended when someone wished me "Merry Christmas".
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