Christmas music makes me cringe, unless it’s “Last Christmas” by George Michael. The sounds of strange old songs blaring through loudspeakers in retail stores doesn’t ring nostalgic for me, it just grates, like those cheesy tunes you would rather forget but aren’t given the opportunity to.
I may sound like a Grinch but nothing about North American Christmas traditions is sentimental to me because I grew up Muslim, in a Muslim country. Dec. 25 was just another day of winter break in my house, when my brother and I would watch endless hours of television as most ’90s kids did on days off from school.
When I first came to Canada, I was charmed by Christmas light displays, and festive markets selling handmade ornaments and hot cider. That charm wore off as expectations to participate fully were thrust upon me by friends and Catholic in-laws.
For those who have known Christmas their entire lives, it is difficult to try to understand the perspective of someone like me, who did not grow up with the same traditions.
Eid-al-Fitr, the feast day that marks the end of Ramadan, was the equivalent of Christmas for me growing up. We ate delicious food every night during Ramadan, and on Eid we gobbled up sweets and wore new clothes. I wanted to recreate these traditions for my own children who were born in Canada and will grow up far from their Muslim relatives. It felt like an impossible challenge because Christmas was too overpowering to compete with.
So when my husband and I bought a house with our first baby in tow, I didn’t want to a put up a Christmas tree or lights. “It can’t overshadow Eid,” I said. Eid is not as flashy as Christmas, so the sparkly lights, presents and chocolate advent calendars would surely make Christmas seem more exciting to a child. When I was growing up, there were no Eid-specific objects to decorate one’s home with because Eid was a feeling, celebrated through food and togetherness.
This internal battle raged inside me as my children grew into observant toddlers. I soon realized I couldn’t deny them the joys of Christmas: I felt myself get excited with them as December neared and we shared new experiences together.
So I softened my rigid ideals: “Sure, let’s put up a Christmas tree,” I said. “I can knit some cute ornaments for it.”
We listened to Christmas music and baked Christmas cookies. We crunched on candy canes and watched Christmas movies like “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” and “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas,” and some I had never seen before like “A Charlie Brown Christmas.”
I also discovered that Canadian Muslims are incredibly resilient in the way they maintain their own traditions in this country, and so innovative. I found online shops that sold all kinds of Eid decorations. I started some new Eid traditions for our family and bought Ramadan-themed countdown calendars and decorative lanterns to hang around the house during Ramadan.
Turns out, my children love Eid just as much as they love Christmas.
Eid and Christmas do not have to be at war: We can enjoy and celebrate both holidays equally.
Christmas music still makes me cringe and maybe it always will, but my children helped Christmas and its festive traditions find a place in my heart.
Maybe next year we’ll put up Christmas lights.
