We live materialistically. I’m shuddering through the culture shock. Coming home at Christmas time. People talking shopping and buying gifts. For what? Giving. Why?
I think back to last week. In Uganda.
The streets are busy. Lugandans celebrate Christmas. Not all, the Muslims don’t. People talk holidays. Family. Coming together.
It may not be turkey and stuffing. Though I did see the odd turkey on the street. Legs bound together. Lying flat on the side of the road. Or carried by their legs upside down.
It’s hot in Uganda. The days find individuals sleeping in a cool ditch or under a tree. Away from the harsh rays of the sun.
But the nights come alive. In a magical way. Everywhere. Little oil lights. Or kerosene. It’s an outdoorsy lifestyle. Music in the streets. Food vendors barbeque or skillet something hot.
So I ponder, what matters most about this time of year?
Is to be together with the ones you love? For families to share? For love to shine? To love and to be loved?
Yes, that’s what matters most.
To love and to be loved.