Sometimes I wonder: What are the children thinking? And sometimes

Opening Scene

The air was crisp, the sunset painting the sky in shades of orange and purple as it sank behind the row of houses. The street was quiet except for the occasional rustling of leaves, the only sound competing with the distant hum of cars in the distance. Inside, the faint scent of coffee filled the room, mingling with the earthy smell of pine. Jeeny sat on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, staring out of the window with a contemplative expression, as if trying to see more than what was visible.

Jack was at the window, hands on the ledge, his eyes fixed on the houses outside. The lights were beginning to twinkle in the windows, Christmas decorations hanging in every yard, some elaborate, some simple. The holiday season had arrived, and with it, the usual questions and doubts — about tradition, faith, and what it all really meant.

A single snowflake drifted down, landing softly on the sill.

Host: "The world outside is filled with celebration, yet inside, a quiet uncertainty lingers. Jack and Jeeny are caught in the tension between what they’ve been taught and what they feel. In the midst of the season, a single question echoes louder than the bells — Why do we do the things we do?"

Character Descriptions

Jack: Tall, lean, with sharp features that often betray the skepticism in his heart. His grey eyes seem to constantly analyze, filter, and break down the world around him, questioning its logic. His tone is often cynical, but there’s a deeper restlessness within him that he hides behind sarcasm and wit.

Jeeny: A small, energetic woman with long black hair and deep brown eyes that reflect a quiet curiosity. She believes in the good of the world, but that belief often causes her to wrestle with its complexities. She is drawn to questions of meaning, tradition, and faith, her voice soft but full of conviction.

Host: The observer, standing in the background, guiding the story. They witness the complexities between the two characters, their internal struggles unfolding in the quiet moments between them.

Main Debate

Jeeny: She looks out the window, her voice almost to herself. “It’s interesting how we hold on to certain traditions, isn’t it? Like Christmas trees and stockings... But do we ever stop to ask why we do it? Is it really about the faith or just about following along?”

Jack: He turns from the window, a slight smirk on his face. “You mean, like why the hell everyone’s going crazy about Christmas trees? The whole thing seems pretty pointless. I mean, there’s nothing in the Bible about putting up a tree in your living room. But hey, everyone’s doing it, right?”

Jeeny: She tilts her head slightly, her voice softer now. “Exactly. And yet, year after year, it becomes this huge thing. We put up a tree, buy red stockings, decorate with lights... And for what? Is it for faith, or is it just because everyone else is doing it? Is it really important?”

Jack: He shrugs, stepping toward the couch, his eyes filled with something like disbelief. “I don’t know. It feels like a bunch of cultural nonsense to me. Just a way for people to keep up with appearances. No one’s really asking themselves why they’re doing it. They just do it because it’s expected. Tradition, I guess.”

Jeeny: “But don’t you think there’s something more to it? Isn’t there a reason people continue these traditions year after year? Maybe it’s not about following the rules to the letter but about belonging to something, feeling like you're part of something bigger than yourself.”

Jack: He crosses his arms, leaning against the arm of the chair. “Belonging to what, though? A consumerist holiday season? A social performance where we all try to outdo each other with our decorations and our gifts? Does anyone even think about the meaning anymore? Or is it just about doing what everyone else does to feel normal?”

Jeeny: Her voice carries a bit more emotion now. “Is that so wrong, though? To want to feel part of a community? To celebrate with the people around you? Sure, the commercialism has taken over, but that doesn’t mean the tradition itself is meaningless. The tree, the stockings — they’re symbols of something more, aren’t they? Family. Love. Connection.”

Jack: He lets out a chuckle, but there’s a trace of sincerity behind it. “Symbols of what? It’s all become so diluted. There’s no deep meaning anymore. If people really cared, they wouldn’t be stressing over what color lights to put up or whether they should get a fake or real tree. It’s all just surface-level stuff.”

Host: The conversation grows quiet for a moment, as the words float in the air, swirling around them. The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for one of them to crack the surface of what’s really beneath all of this.

Jeeny: “Maybe the surface matters too. Maybe it’s not just about the deeper meaning or the rules we’re following, but about the tangible way we show love. The tree, the stockings — they might not be in the Bible, but they’re part of our culture. They’re part of what connects us, whether we realize it or not.”

Jack: His expression softens slightly, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his usual cynicism. “Maybe. But I still wonder sometimes, Jeeny. When I see people getting so caught up in all of this, I wonder if they’re just going through the motions, you know? Are they really thinking about it? Or are they just doing it because it’s expected?”

Jeeny: She nods, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “I think people are looking for something, Jack. They’re trying to feel something. Even if it’s just a small spark of warmth, of connection. Sometimes, tradition isn’t about belief — it’s about the simple act of showing up. Of being together.”

Host: The room is still now, the soft light of the streetlamps casting long shadows across the floor. The words hang between them, not resolved, but acknowledged. There’s no perfect answer to the question of why we hold on to certain traditions — no clear-cut reasoning that will satisfy all the doubts. But in this quiet moment, they realize that perhaps the question itself is less important than the act of asking it.

Climax and Reconciliation

Jack: He leans back, exhaling slowly. “I guess I get it, in a way. Maybe it’s not about the trees or the stockings after all. Maybe it’s about what we’re really trying to find by doing all this stuff. The traditions... they connect us in ways we can’t always explain.”

Jeeny: Her smile is soft, warm, as if she’s been waiting for him to reach this point. “Exactly. The meaning isn’t always obvious, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Sometimes, we need something to bring us back to each other, to remind us that we’re not alone in the world.”

Host: The room feels warmer now, the last rays of sunlight disappearing behind the horizon. Jack and Jeeny sit in the quiet, not in opposition, but in understanding — each holding a piece of the truth, the one that lies between the rituals of the world and the search for something deeper. The night falls around them, and outside, the lights of the neighborhood twinkle in the distance, the soft hum of the season carrying on, like a familiar melody.