Book Jeff

Christmas in July

I’m going to shift seasons this week. With mid-July fast approaching, we are already halfway through the summer of 2024. Memorial Day and the Fourth of July are now behind us, and some of you are even home from this year’s summer vacation. Believe it or not, stores are stocked for back-to-school shopping.

And Lyndsey and I are in Orlando celebrating Christmas. Yes, Christmas in July!

I’m speaking at a high-end Holiday Decorators’ Convention. We’ll be talking about the magic of Christmas combined with the magic of Disney while sitting in a swamp in Central Florida with temperatures in the nineties and humidity near one-hundred degrees.

Nonetheless, I want to share with you a story I’ll be sharing with the decorating elves (executives) this week. It comes from Jack Lindquist, who started his career as Disneyland’s first advertising manager. In his memoir, In Service to the Mouse, Jack tells a story that reminds us of the power of dreams and the responsibility we have for seeing our own dreams come true—not for the sake of solving problems or making as much money as possible, but for the simple sake of making as many people happy as possible:

On Christmas Eve in 1955, I walked up Main Street in the early evening. And on this night, with the garlands strung between the lampposts, the wreaths hanging in all the store windows, and the huge Christmas tree in Town Square, the atmosphere drew me in.

Because the park was practically empty on that Christmas Eve night, a family caught my attention, and as the mother, father, their 10-year-old son and younger daughter walked down Main Street, I followed them. They were dressed neatly but not stylish; the father and son wore overalls. The mother wore a cotton dress with a coat. They all held hands. They talked to each other and appeared to be a close-knit family.

When they arrived at the Christmas tree in Town Square, next to The Emporium with the mechanical Santa Claus and dolls in the window, the little girl tugged on her mom’s arm and said, “Mom, this really was better than having Santa Claus.”

I knew then that Santa wasn’t bringing them presents. The parents must have told their children that if they went to Disneyland, Santa couldn’t bring presents. Right then, I wanted to take them into The Emporium and let them pick out anything they wanted, but, sadly, I didn’t have the authority to do so.

The family came to Disneyland but could not afford to spend a lot of money. So, for this family, their time at the park was probably Christmas. The kids would forego toys, and mom and dad wouldn’t receive presents.

To me, this one brief moment proved to be my most meaningful memory at the park because it symbolized what we mean to people: We are not a cure for cancer, we are not going to save the world, but if we can make people happy for a few hours for a day, then we are doing something worthwhile.

As Jack Lindquist’s story reflects, the true magic of Christmas, and indeed of any moment we create, lies not in material gifts but in the joy and togetherness we foster. Just like that family found more wonder in their visit to Disneyland than in any gift Santa might have brought, we too can find profound happiness in the simple moments spent with loved ones, even in the midst of summer heat and high humidity.

So, as we celebrate Christmas in July, let’s embrace the spirit of giving and dreaming, not just for the holiday season, but every day of the year. Let us remember that our greatest achievements are not measured by the profits we make or the accolades we receive, but by the smiles we inspire and the hearts we touch. By making happiness our mission, we can bring a little bit of Christmas magic into each day, reminding ourselves and those around us that dreams do come true, and sometimes, the greatest gifts are the ones that can’t be wrapped.

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