For the first half of my life I remember my Dad, of blessed memory, working (he drove a cab) on Christmas so his fellow drivers could be home with their families on their most special day. It was one of the first lessons I had in charity, real goodness not just lip service. My Dad is gone since 1981 but never a Christmas comes without thinking about him and his simply, yet meaningful action. The year before my Dad died he finally operated his own business: he had acquired a medallion after years of saving and trying. That year he served the homeless.
Now so many years later I do what many Jews do: a movie and Chinese food. It is a simple and fun thing and has become a tradition for me. Each of us share memories on holidays whether we celebrate them or not. It is nice to reflect and remember. Merry Christmas........
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