The holiday season is back again—but is the magic of the season?
When we were kids, Christmas was pure wonder. We stayed up late, wide-eyed with anticipation, waiting to hear reindeer hooves on the roof. We believed Santa Claus would slide down the chimney and eat the cookies we left for him, maybe even share a carrot or two with his reindeer. The school days leading up to winter break were filled with construction paper snowflakes, hot chocolate, and “The Polar Express.”
Back then, the season felt endless—a blur of excitement, lights, and imagination. We wrote long letters to Santa and circled pages in toy catalogs filled with Legos, dolls, and anything that caught our eyes. The magic lived in every ornament, every snowfall, and every countdown until Christmas morning.
Now, things are different.
This year, when I [Kaelyn] asked my brother what he wanted for Christmas, he said, “I don’t know… socks.”
Socks. That’s all I got. Gone are the days of color-coded wish lists and restless excitement. The lists are shorter, the magic feels quieter, and sometimes it seems like the excitement has been replaced with practicality. We’ve grown up—and so have our expectations.
And honestly, it’s not just growing up. It’s the world around us, too. The holiday season seems to arrive earlier every year. Christmas decorations line store aisles before Halloween is even over, and Mariah Carey “defrosts” on Nov. 1. Even Thanksgiving struggles to stand on its own, overshadowed by Black Friday deals and constant store sales. Somewhere along the way, the holidays have blurred together—less about meaning and more about marketing.
It’s no wonder the magic feels like it’s fading.
The pressure to be cheerful, to spend money we don’t have, and to post picture-perfect moments online—it can all feel overwhelming. As a college student, I [Morgan] often see the holidays through the lens of exhaustion. Thanksgiving break isn’t a time to relax; it’s the calm before the storm of final exams, presentations, and looming deadlines. It’s hard to feel whimsical when your December calendar looks more like a large to-do list.
Price inflation has crept its way into every part of life—gifts, groceries, and even gas to drive home for the holidays. Prices are about 49 percent higher than they were in 2010. The dollar doesn’t stretch like it used to, and as college students, we feel that squeeze especially hard.
When I [Kaelyn] worked full-time over the summer, forty hours a week earned me less than $700 a paycheck. Now that I’m back in school, my schedule is dominated by classes, study sessions, and extracurriculars. At Seton Hall, being a full-time student means taking at least 12 credits – though most of us take more – and that leaves little room for shifts at a part-time job.
For many students, that financial pressure dulls what’s supposed to be “the most wonderful time of the year.” The sparkle of Christmas morning fades under fluorescent dorm lights and tight budgets.
But the magic isn’t gone—it’s just changed shape.
We’ve learned that the joy of the holidays doesn’t come from extravagant gifts or elaborate plans. It comes from smaller, quieter things: the look on someone’s face when they unwrap a thoughtful gift, a warm meal shared with friends, or a night spent laughing with family. Sometimes, the best presents are homemade cards, framed photos, or cookies baked from an old family recipe. The kind of gifts that say, “I know you,” instead of, “I spent a lot on it.”
My family [Kaelyn] still decorate the tree the weekend after Thanksgiving, using the same collection of ornaments we’ve had for years—some chipped, some handmade, but all filled with memories. We don’t wake up at dawn anymore. Sometimes, we even work. But we still gather, play Scattegories, eat too much dessert, and laugh until our cheeks hurt.
The magic of Christmas past was about excitement and anticipation. The magic of Christmas presents is about gratitude, connection, and slowing down long enough to appreciate what—and who—we have.
Yes, the lists are shorter. The gifts are simpler. But when we see our families gathered around the tree, I realize that this kind of magic was what Christmas was about all along.
The magic hasn’t disappeared—it just grew up with us.
Kaelyn Blizard is the assistant editor of The Setonian’s News section. She can be reached at kaelyn.blizard@student.shu.edu.
Morgan Dence is the assistant editor of The Setonian’s Social Media. She can be reached at morgan.dence@student.shu.edu.
