For a holiday treat, my husband and I traveled to the epicenter of retail magic to immerse ourselves in Christmas mayhem, glitter and make believe. The hustle and bustle of Manhattan’s avenues swept us up and squired us around midtown to show off their holiday fanfare.
With hundreds of other pedestrians, we gaped at the musical castle of lights attached to the stone walls of Saks Fifth Avenue department store. Across the street the Rockefeller Center’s Christmas tree beckoned us to watch skaters of all size and ability as they circled and squealed with the anticipation of the season’s bringings. For a second or two we were spell bound.
We journeyed over to Macy’s Herald Square on W 34th Street. There we found it, the Spirit of Christmas. At the store’s entrance a drummer boy dressed in a Salvation Army uniform beckoned shoppers to toss their coins into the red kettle. He did this not with that droning, one-note, “bring out your dead” klaxon but with open-armed flair and a boom box spilling out Mariah Carey’s version of All I Want for Christmas.
Hallelujah, and praise baby Jesus! The sad, tired tolling of that monotonous, unending clanging of a single bell is retired, departed. And in its place the young cadet’s swagger filled the air with love and possibilities as happy shoppers formed a line to take a turn dancing with the hip hop shepherd of glad tidings.
He played his drum for Him, he played his best for Him and He smiled at him.
Merry Christmas everyone.