As someone whoís three and a half months shy of turning sixty, I donít believe the same things I believed when I was a twelve-year-old altar boy at St. Roseís. I donít claim any moral or intellectual superiority because of it. Itís just that what I believe now isnít the same as what I believed then. Itís not evolution; itís just change. (Or maybe it is evolution. I havenít really decided and donít necessarily think itís a categorization I want to make.)
Thank goodness (or Whoever) I can still celebrate Christmas with a clear conscience. I appreciate the religious training I had as a child, and Iím grateful for the holiday, even though itís a little different for me now than it was then. I can still sing (if I could sing, that is) the traditional carols, with a total lack of irony. In fact, I enjoy Christmas music even more now, because I can throw my whole artistic soul into songs about Jesus or Santa, as much as I enjoy singing ďO CanadaĒ or ďOkie from Muskogee,Ē even though Iím neither a Canadian nor an Okie.