Christmas, as we know it, is a symbol, a recognition, a flower on the altar, a bow in passing. It says a tiny yes to the dream, it sings a little song. In lighting our small red candles, in giving our paltry gifts, we pay a slight tribute, not only to the infinite spirit of love typified by the great hero whose birth we celebrate, but to all the lesser heroes who have been strongly inspired by the beauty of his life and the triumphant tragedy of his death. We turn from our familiar paths to pause a moment at a shrine heaped with noble treasures; a shrine where, to the end of time, the spirit of man will receive and carry away a richer treasure than anything he can bring.

from For Christmas by Harriett Monroe (1860-1936)

In recent years it has become the tedious pastime of the downright nasty, attention-seeking 'progressives' to dump on the traditions and very enjoyment of Christmas with their bile, which seasonally news-starved papers feel obliged to print to pack the vacant columns. 

So before the black snakes use 'isms' such as feminism, multiculturalism or just plain old hatred of 'Judeo Christians' as a excuse to be nasty and offend as many people as possible, I thought I might just get in first to start the season with something more truthful that the substantial majority of Australians can recognise and relate to as a cultural tradition.  -For Aussies do have cultural traditions too, some may be surprised to learn.