Every year when December arrives, the city quietly changes its face. Supermarkets suddenly have shelves full of discounted chocolates and over-packaged gift sets, shop windows line up plastic Christmas trees, and the same old Christmas songs start looping on the metro. For me, Christmas is not just a “Western holiday”; it feels more like a reminder – a way of saying that the year has quietly slipped into its final days.
Every year when December arrives, the city quietly changes its face. Supermarkets suddenly have shelves full of discounted chocolates and over-packaged gift sets, shop windows line up plastic Christmas trees, and the same old Christmas songs start looping on the metro. For me, Christmas is not just a “Western holiday”; it feels more like a reminder – a way of saying that the year has quietly slipped into its final days.
When I was younger, everything I knew about Christmas came from TV dramas and adverts: heavy snow, fireplaces, red stockings, and a chubby old man climbing out of a chimney. Only when I grew up did I realise that my city has no fireplaces, it rarely snows, and the only thing that never changes is the huge Christmas trees piled up in shopping malls and the endless “Christmas sale” posters. The commercial atmosphere is definitely strong, but strangely, I don’t completely dislike this “vibe”. After a long year of routine, having some decorations that are unnecessary but pretty scattered around the city feels like a small interruption to everyday life.
What actually makes Christmas meaningful, though, are all the small details. Some people deliberately use the day as an excuse to meet friends for a meal, even if it’s just fast food. Some send a simple “Merry Christmas” to classmates they haven’t spoken to in a long time. Others save up little presents throughout the year and choose this day to give them out. The gifts themselves may not be expensive, but the fact that someone remembered you is enough to bring a bit of warmth into winter.
For students, Christmas can come with mixed feelings. On one hand, there’s the lightness and excitement of the holiday; on the other hand, deadlines and exams keep approaching as if the calendar didn’t change at all. The library is full of people rushing to finish essays, while outside the shops are clearing stock and counting down to the New Year. It’s in this tension that Christmas becomes an interesting moment: it puts “the life I wish I had” and “the life I’m actually living” into the same frame for a while, forcing me to think about how I’ve really spent the past year.
If I had to give Christmas my own definition, I’d say it’s a day that gives you permission to pause. Even if it’s just buying yourself a slightly overpriced hot drink you would normally skip, or spending half an hour seriously looking back over the year – the happy moments, the regrets, the awkward times, the things you’re proud of – that already counts as a small ritual. Rituals don’t magically solve all our problems, but they remind us that life isn’t only about to-do lists and the next step. It’s also made of moments that deserve to be remembered properly.