Here's one of my favorite Christmas poems:

The Magi
BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Now as at all times I can see in the mind's eye,
In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones
Appear and disappear in the blue depths of the sky
With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,
And all their helms of silver hovering side by side,
And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more,
Being by Calvary's turbulence unsatisfied,
The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.
I think many of us feel this way. I love Christmas -- but, let's face it, Easter is the center of the Christian ritual year. OK -- presents and Santa Claus rule. But why is Christmas so ascendant (it isn't, I think, in some more traditional Christian cultures, like Greece)? "Calvary's turbulence" is too disturbing to be fun - but the "uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor" is beautiful and fun. Besides, all of us who are parents know that our own children's birth saved us from our sins and granted us immortality (in a way). So Christmas rules.

Merry Christmas.