I’ve never dreamed of a white Christmas. I grew up in southern California; my preferred Christmas weather is 75 and sunny. I sang the song, sure, but I sang it the way one sings “Puff the Magic Dragon.” I sang it because it was fun, not because I believed it was real. Some people are amazed at my disregard for the magic of snow on Christmas. They tell me I must just not understand, having never experienced it before. Last year in Syracuse, I did finally have my first white Christmas; I found the whole thing over-rated. Snow is cold and hard to shovel no matter what day it is. The first Christmas was likely not white either, Bethlehem averages in the 50s this time of year.
While songs about snow and sleigh rides never have made sense to me, I still love them. I love them because they remind me of the earthiness of this holiday. Christmas isn’t really about weather, but about the miracle of a God who became flesh and came down to muck through this world of snow and heat. So Merry Christmas to you, whether your holiday dreams include sledding or surfing. As for me, I’m going hiking.