as far as religion goes, I'm not really anything. But I celebrate Christmas for much the same reason as people on this island have had a midwinter festival for time immemorial. It's cold. It's dark. The sun has gone away, the happy chemicals aren't being boosted, the shadows are everywhere, and we need light, and celebration, and food, and cheer. And then I get that, and I'm beating the dark, I'm happy, I have my family and friends, I have my little spot of light and warmth, and I hear about some poor bugger who's not got that - someone's died cold and lonely, someone's family is missing a piece - the contrast between light and dark is more keenly felt. I suppose, to use a bit of a simile, it's like being tucked up safe and warm in bed and hearing the thunderstorm outside and thinking "bloody hell, I'm glad I'm not out in that" but knowing someone *was* out in that, and suffered for it. I haven't expressed this very well, I'm sure there's someone who can put it better, but I think you can work out what I mean if you think about it.