It’s Christmas morning!
And the day is already looking very merry and bright.
See for yourself!
Whoopee! A White Christmas; love when that happens… (I know, you’d think, being a Buffalo gal, it would be a regular occurrence. But you’d be wrong to think that… which is why I’m so silly excited!)
And speaking of parenthetical Buffalo gals, there’s my segue, and my real reason for this post. (I’m nothing if not roundabout in my ways).
It’s time to talk about It’s a Wonderful Life, the greatest movie, not just of all the Christmas movies, but of all the movies, period. Don’t argue with me. You know I’m right.
I will keep this short, because I know you have presents to open and cookies to scarf down and carb coma naps to take, and many other such important items on your agenda today.
And of course, I’ve written about this movie before (in fact, it’s one of my more popular blogposts, you can read it here). But today I write because of a new IAWL revelation that must be shared with you, my Misfit Friends, at once, without delay.
And here’s the revelation:
Thinking of George Bailey, as I often do this time of year, it occurs to me, as if for the the first time, that his greatest gift wasn’t to see the impact of his life. It was the gift of being Alive. Not just existing, mind you. There’s enough of that going on, especially these days. Just staying alive isn’t enough. If you remember, in that weird little sequence with Clarence Oddbody, Angel Second Class, he existed alright. In fact, his ear was good as new, and his mouth wasn’t even bleeding anymore. Perfectly safe. But he was nobody. He had no identity. And he was lost, and miserable. Because no one recognized him. He merely existed….
What made the difference? What made him fully alive?
Being known. By Bert the cop. By his beloved Bedford Falls. By his mother. By his wife, Mary, and his four children: Pete, Janie, Zuzu and Tommy.
Being loved. That’s the difference between existing and being fully alive.
It didn’t change his circumstances. At least not right away. He was still “in trouble”. Still a “failure”. Never became an architect or engineer or whatever it is he wanted to be. Never traveled the world. Never even got a honeymoon. Potter was still a jerk.
But it was enough to be loved.
It made his life worth living.
And that, I submit to you, is what the movie was all about. And come to think of it, that’s what Christmas is all about, too.
God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent His one and only Son into the world so that we might live through Him.1 John 4:9
Merry Christmas, Misfits!