Black Friday bled in two directions in 2013. It bled forward into Cyber Monday but, for the first time, it also bled backwards into Thanksgiving Day. It was a black and blue extended weekend for bargain-seeking shoppers while obliterating the concept of “holiday” for retail workers who had to toil in stores or handling online orders. The news coverage of the chaos that ensued across the U.S. reminded me why there is no deal great enough to entice me to a department store during the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. And why I tip extra to wait staff at any restaurant I visit on any major holiday. A friend in England told me she is concerned about a similar raucous response to this year’s introduction of Black Friday in the main shopping areas of her country.

Perhaps the commercial and social pressures we face around iconic holidays bring on the nostalgia we feel for Christmases past. Even people who do not celebrate Christmas welcome the cultural symbols. Every year, I look forward to hearing old, familiar songs about Christmas, snow and winter played on the radio. I plant myself in front of the TV with a mug of cocoa or Glühwein (mulled wine) to watch the annual showing of It’s a Wonderful Life. I celebrate my German heritage with marzipan stolen, lebkuchen, pfefferneuse cookies and other seasonal sweets on the dining table to share with family and friends. I’m sure you have your rituals, too.

At this time of year, whether we’re surrounded by loved ones, friends, or in solitude, we yearn for the comfort of the familiar. Seasonal stories of love, friendship, redemption and hope are the ones we return to year after year. Whether told in novels, novellas, memoirs, short stories, poems or illustrations, there’s no shortage of fabulous books to read and share during this reflective holiday season.

What are your favorite Christmas stories? Why are they your favorites? How have they impacted your life and what do they mean to you today?

Here’s my own list of 10 favorite Christmas tales. Almost all of them have been adapted to movies but they retain the most magic in their original printed form:

The Gift of the Magi – O. Henry 1905
A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens 1843
The Little Match Girl – Hans Christian Andersen 1845
The Polar Express – Chris Van Allsburg 1957
Little Women – Louisa May Alcott 1868
Night Before Christmas – Clement Clarke Moore 1823
The Nutcracker – E.T.A. Hoffmann — 1816 (reimagined bestseller with Maurice Sendak illustrations 1984)
How the Grinch Stole Christmas – Dr. Seuss 1957
Olive, the Other Reindeer – J. Otto Seibold 1997
The Cat Who Came for Christmas – Cleveland Amory 1988

One more favorite, in fact my personal favorite Christmas-time story is the one I wrote: Santa Drives a Mini Cooper. As a holiday gift to my blog readers, I am offering a free download of this short story. Simply leave a reply to this blog entry mentioning “Evelyn’s Santa Story” and I’ll be happy to email this little holiday gem to you! I will use the email address you send me but it will not be posted or given to anyone else.

Nelson Mandela’s epic struggle to lead South Africa out of the hell of apartheid was in full review by the media following his death earlier this month. His 1994 autobiography, Long Walk to Freedom also gained renewed interest with the release of an acclaimed new movie based on the book. Some media stories about Mandela included archived interviews with “Mama Africa”, the Grammy Award-winning South African singer and civil rights activist Miriam Makeba, who died in 2008. Makeba also wrote an autobiography, Makeba: My Story.

I never had the honor of meeting Mandela but I did meet Makeba. In fact, I was a guest in her New Jersey home in the mid-1960s. As a student at New York’s High School of Music & Art, I loved Makeba’s music. I carried around her 1960 debut record album, aware that her daughter, Bongi (known in school as Angela) was a fellow student. Bongi saw me with the album and we struck up a friendship that led to my overnight stay in the Makeba home. You would never guess such a soft-spoken, sweet-natured, humble woman was already a mega-star. Though small of stature, Miriam Makeba was a goddess. I was awed by her. However, it was decades before I would really understand her, only after reading her autobiography.

By the time Makeba’s autobiography was published in 1987, she had suffered cancer, the dissolution of several marriages, the sorrow of Bongi’s untimely death, a decades-long exile from her beloved South Africa homeland after she spoke against apartheid, and the loss of a welcoming U.S. after her marriage to a controversial political activist. Her autobiography appeared as she was beginning to reconnect with an appreciative American audience, just a year after her Graceland tour with Paul Simon.

The lives of Mandela and Makeba were closely intertwined, even when they were countries or continents apart. She used her voice in speeches and songs, supporting Mandela during his imprisonment. Like Mandela, she rose above personal losses and the wounds of bigotry, understanding that love eventually triumphs over hate. In 1990, a recently freed Mandela persuaded Makeba to return to her native land (on her French passport). At Makeba’s death, Mandela led tributes for the global singer who had courageously spoken out against apartheid.

Now, these two giants have left us. Others can tell us much about Mandela and Makeba but to truly understand them, one must step into their lives through their own words. In their autobiographies, we hear their voices and see through their eyes how they viewed themselves and the times in which they lived. Long Walk to Freedom and Makeba: My Story are proof of the powerful literary form called “autobiography.”