For years, I've been advocating a stuff-free holiday season. And each year, I wind up with a bunch of junk I don't want or need.

Back in 2000, I suggested to my parents that we dispense with the gift-giving ritual altogether, and simply use the day to catch up and do something active, like take a hike in the woods (one of my dad's favorite yuletide traditions) and eat good food (my mom's).

My suggestion fell on deaf ears. I received a number of sweaters and shirts that I never wore, a photo book about France that I glanced through exactly once (the moment I got it), and a lot of other stuff. I don't know what that stuff was, because, frankly, most of it probably wound up in the back of my closet until I ended up donating it all to the Salvation Army during one of my closet-cleaning frenzies.

But surely, you say, the stuff brought some cheer on December 25th, when we gathered with our coffee around the tree and amassed our our Christmas bounties. Sorry to disappoint you, but even that was tense. And not just in 2000, but pretty much every year since I was old enough to not be given the kid's menu at family restaurants.

Thanksgiving, on the other hand, has always been my favorite holiday. This is a day for relaxing, and enjoying the company of friends old and new, family, or a combination. People come together for our species' oldest and most universal custom: to share a meal, and with it, conversation and fellowship.

I always leave Thanksgiving dinner, wherever it may be, with a feeling of warmth and contentment that I have never associated with Christmas.

So why must it be thus? That's simple: It mustn't. As Bill McKibben of Grist.org puts it, most Americans secretly hate Christmas for many of the reasons I describe above, and he suggests we make it better with these simple, stuff-free ideas.

This year, I'll be traveling once again to my brother's, where we'll eat and talk and drink wine, but we will not open any presents. He and his wife have asked my parents and me to instead donate to a charity of our choice. (Sure it was my idea first, but better late than never.) I've chosen the Brooklyn Community Foundation, which this holiday season is asking for donations for its "Caring Neighbors Kits," educational books, toys, and other resources for homeless children in Brooklyn meant to ease their stress and that of their parents. The kids will receive their gifts Tuesday evening at the Flatbush Reformed Church in Brooklyn, and though I won't be there to see their joy, the mere thought of the them tearing into their new possessions brings a Thanksgiving warmth to my heart.

And thank the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future: Not only will someone who actually needs something benefit from this new family tradition, but I'll have a much easier time traveling back to New York without a sleigh full of next year's trash.

[Image: Fayobserver.com]