A sadistic Christmas.

B: Good morning, Michel
M: Hi Beatrice !

B: Christmas is coming and isn’t this a wonderful time?
M: I hate Christmas.

B: Why would you hate Christmas? It is a time of peace and happiness and loving and gifts.
M: Something happened in my childhood with Christmas that made me hate it even until today.
B: Wow! That’s pretty heavy. What happened?

M: It occurred when I was 6 years old. At that time the family was still together. Christmas was celebrated with a big Christmas tree and decorations all over the house. On Christmas morning the four children could go in the large dining room where was a table divided in four sections. For each child there were presents and sweets and everybody was happy.
B: Sounds like a wonderful way to celebrate Christmas.

M: At the time each pupil from Primary school would get a report on the results over the last four months. Marks for the different disciplines. Going from 0 to 10. 10 being the best. When 6 years old the Christmas school report was the first one in my life.
B: That must have been so exciting!

M: Yes, it was. I went home full of excitement and pride of having my first report.
B: How were your results?
M: Very good. For all disciplines the marks were 7 and 8. Except for mathematics. That was a 5.
B: Meaning medium?
M: Yes, not bad and not good.
B: So, a report to be satisfied about.

M: That is not what my father thought. Proudly I gave him my report in the corridor of the house immediately after returning from school. Full of joy and excitement. He looked at the report, saw this 5 for mathematics and got tremendously angry. He started shouting and screaming and grabbed me. Lay me over his knee and gave me a severe spanking.

B: What a strange reaction he had.
M: That was not all though. He screamed that for Christmas I was not going to have any present. Because of the 5 for mathematics.
B: Isn’t that out of proportion?

M: Two days later was Christmas. In the morning we four children were all excited and waiting in our playroom to be allowed into the dining room to get our presents. The big moment came and we walked into the room. There was the large table. Divided in four sections. Three sections full of presents and sweets. And one section completely empty.
B: But that is awful!
M: I was just standing there seeing my brother and two sisters happily unpacking their presents.
B: That was sadistic of your parents.

M: As of that day I hate Christmas.
B: I can understand that. I also would hate Christmas after such an experience.

M: My father was a traumatized person because of his cruel and horrible experiences during the Second World War. Frequently he had excessive and erratic behaviour.
B: That must have been difficult to be the son of such a Dad.

M: For all my life I have escaped and avoided Christmas. Even to hear Christmas songs makes me feel bad. I switch off the radio or TV immediately. From shops I stay away during December.
B: But Christmas is everywhere.
M: This explains why for years I have spent December alone at the deserted Pacific coast of Mexico focusing on my photographic work.
B: Your photography as an antidote.
M: Exactly.
B: I have another antidote for you. Come into my arms and I will hug your Christmas-misery away.






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