Page 18 of Santa’s Lawyer

“I’ve boiled it down to three basic elements that comprise these stories. Some are more prominently featured than others, but they answer the question: What principles does a person’s behavior reflect, or what values do they uphold, when they are embodying the Christmas spirit?

“Start with the classic: A Christmas Carol. Dickens is fine, though the Muppets is my personal favorite retelling, and actually the most faithful to the original text.” She stood beside the words, tapping them with her magic feathered pen.

“Take Ebeneezer Scrooge’s nephew, Fred, positively brimming with Christmas spirit. He talks about how Christmas is a time for charity and remembering that we are all in this together—I’m paraphrasing, of course. But he makes clear that he believes in the power of Christmas to bring out the best in people.”

She circled three words from the scribbled paragraphs floating in the air from her summary of the Muppet Christmas Carol: Generosity, Community, and Belief.

She pulled them to the space in front of Louis and arranged them in a triangle. As she did so, the word “Generosity,” which appeared dozens of times in her notes across her movie descriptions, lit up green. Each movie title with a description containing that word flew across the room and took its place under the “Generosity” heading. The same thing happened for “Community,” which glowed red, and "Belief,” which shone a bright white.

A Charlie Brown Christmas fell into place under both “Community” and “Belief.” Home Alone 2 went to “Generosity” and “Community.” It’s a Wonderful Life sailed under “Community.” Soon, the three columns were full of familiar titles.

“Obviously, there is some overlap between these categories,” Avery said, drawing a circle around each group. With a flick of her pen, the circles arranged themselves into a Venn diagram.

“But they all have something in common. When someone forgets about these principles, this Christmas Canon, if you will,” Avery allowed herself a small smile at her own brilliance, “they have lost their way. But! Christmas is also a time for redemption. And by remembering, or learning for the first time, to embrace Generosity, Community, and Belief, those who have lost the Christmas spirit—or never had it in the first place—can be redeemed.” She wrote the word “Redemption” in the center slice of the Venn diagram.

Avery paused her lecture and turned to Louis. “How am I doing?”

Louis was reclining on the couch, an ankle resting on his opposite knee, one hand stroking his chin. A mischievous smile began to bloom on his lips. “Oh, just fine,” he said, his tone underwhelmed, but his eyes twinkling. “Your knowledge of films is impressive, of course.”

She raised an eyebrow and popped a hand on her hip. “But?” Avery asked, anticipating a challenge.

“So what?” he said, gesturing dismissively at the detailed diagram before him with a smirk. He glanced at Avery’s face and quickly looked away, fighting a broader smile and setting his mouth in a serious line. “Why does any of this matter?”

She recognized that old familiar tone of a professor trying to lead her to a conclusion. He seemed to Avery to be enjoying needling her. She slowly stalked around to the back of the couch and stood behind him.

He continued staring straight ahead.

She leaned down, her lips an inch from his ear.

“I’m so glad you asked,” she said in a low, dangerous voice.

He shuddered.

“It matters, Louis,” she said, straightening up and walking back to her invisible chalkboard with newfound swagger, “because people say that it matters. Storytellers invent tales about Christmas because they think it matters. And by telling these stories, they make it matter.”

She gestured broadly at all of her notes, which now spanned the length of the library.

“At the end of the day, these are all the same story, because they’re all about Christmas—or at least adjacent to it.” Avery waved at a column at the far end of her notes entitled "Miscellaneous,” which contained a smattering of controversial titles, including Die Hard, Brazil, and Rocky.

“Why do we tell this story over and over?” she asked, rhetorically. “Because we all know Christmas means something—something we have to keep relearning. It’s a time for Generosity, Community, Belief, yes, but it’s also about the cycle of forgetting, and remembering. Sometimes we forget what Christmas means. Sometimes we forget that it even has meaning in the first place. Sometimes we’re just going through the motions and expect Christmas to simply happen to us because the decorations are up and there it is on the calendar. And when we forget, we feel lost, but we aren’t sure why.” Her momentum slowed. “Our hearts ache. We feel empty around the holidays. We lose our...spark...”

She stood quietly for a moment, looking at the words glowing in the air in front of her.

Her mom would have loved this.

She ran the hawk feather on the end of her pen between her fingers.

Louis got up off the couch and stood beside her.

“But?” he gently prompted.

Avery continued gazing at the glowing words. “But—we can remember,” she said, glancing at him. A small smile fought for purchase on her lips.

“We can be redeemed,” she continued, turning back to her notes. “Because Christmas isn’t just a collection of qualities or principles. It’s a state of mind. A way of operating. And we inhabit that again, make it mean something again, by simply…remembering that it has meaning in the first place. Sometimes we just need to remember it for ourselves, when the things we thought gave Christmas meaning are gone.”

Avery drew a large circle around her Venn diagram and scrawled above it in big letters: “THE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS.”

She stepped back and ran her eyes over the words. She thought that was it. It felt significant. But no bell rang. She ran the feather from her pen across her cheek. “Hmm.”