<p>‘It’s the most wonderful time of the year!’ So begins a popular Christmas song. It describes the traditional activities associated with this month, but its primary focus is on get-togethers. All of us can relate to the lovely line, ‘<span class="italic">Our hearts will be glowing when loved ones are near.</span>’ Christmas means different things to different people, but it is often an occasion for fun-filled fellowship.</p>.<p>Just as surely, this can be a sorrowful season. For thousands mourning the loss of family members, the sights and sounds of merriment accentuate their grief. It is not a happy holiday for those who have recently been bereaved. With aching hearts they recall the past, missing the familiar faces no longer in their midst. Even if one has faith and fortitude, the festival seems bleak. Christmas might once have entailed pleasurable preparations but, now, the will to cook and bake, adorn the house and shop for gifts is nonexistent.</p>.<p>I did not understand this in March 1968, when my paternal grandmother passed away. December came round, and my father announced that Christmas would be quietly observed. We would go to church, but there would be no tree and the usual paraphernalia. My younger brother and I muttered bitterly to each other about this injustice. At 14, I should have known better, but I failed to see how our parents could deprive us of our eagerly awaited celebrations.</p>.<p>30 years later, I realised how my father had felt when I flew home to attend his funeral. It was only November, but Singapore’s Changi Airport was bedecked with beautiful Christmas-themed decorations. I viewed them through a mist of tears, and the bright lights increased my gloom. Although I claimed to believe in the joy of Christ’s coming, I was overwhelmed with grief.</p>.<p>Let us reach out to friends for whom this is not a ‘wonderful time of year’. May we be harbingers of hope in this sad season for some!</p>.<p><strong>Check out DH's latest videos:</strong></p>
<p>‘It’s the most wonderful time of the year!’ So begins a popular Christmas song. It describes the traditional activities associated with this month, but its primary focus is on get-togethers. All of us can relate to the lovely line, ‘<span class="italic">Our hearts will be glowing when loved ones are near.</span>’ Christmas means different things to different people, but it is often an occasion for fun-filled fellowship.</p>.<p>Just as surely, this can be a sorrowful season. For thousands mourning the loss of family members, the sights and sounds of merriment accentuate their grief. It is not a happy holiday for those who have recently been bereaved. With aching hearts they recall the past, missing the familiar faces no longer in their midst. Even if one has faith and fortitude, the festival seems bleak. Christmas might once have entailed pleasurable preparations but, now, the will to cook and bake, adorn the house and shop for gifts is nonexistent.</p>.<p>I did not understand this in March 1968, when my paternal grandmother passed away. December came round, and my father announced that Christmas would be quietly observed. We would go to church, but there would be no tree and the usual paraphernalia. My younger brother and I muttered bitterly to each other about this injustice. At 14, I should have known better, but I failed to see how our parents could deprive us of our eagerly awaited celebrations.</p>.<p>30 years later, I realised how my father had felt when I flew home to attend his funeral. It was only November, but Singapore’s Changi Airport was bedecked with beautiful Christmas-themed decorations. I viewed them through a mist of tears, and the bright lights increased my gloom. Although I claimed to believe in the joy of Christ’s coming, I was overwhelmed with grief.</p>.<p>Let us reach out to friends for whom this is not a ‘wonderful time of year’. May we be harbingers of hope in this sad season for some!</p>.<p><strong>Check out DH's latest videos:</strong></p>