Two weary-looking women in red and green sweatshirts were hunched over a counter at the LaGrange Post Office, methodically affixing Christmas stamps to cards and packages.

I didn’t hear the first woman’s question, but the answer required no explanation.

“It doesn’t really matter if I’m ready,” the second woman said. “It’s coming anyhow.”

Ah, yes. Ah, Christmas.

It’s coming, Dec. 25, ready or not.

Somehow, whether we mean for it to or not, Christmas has a way of becoming an item on a “To do” list.

A very long, very labor-intensive, ridiculously expensive list.

And please, don’t stop reading. This is not going to be another lecture on “slowing down and savoring” the season. I’m not going to wag my finger in your face and lament, again, the relentless commercialization. I’m not going to say a hypocritcal, “Tsk, tsk” and remind you, once more, of the reason for the season.

I’ll let Wall Street do that.

Yes, Wall Street.

Wall Street and Washington, D.C., Mumbai, Darfur and Chicago.

Wall Street and Gaza, Baghdad, Karachi, Zimbabwe, Detroit.

All the places this side of Bethlehem - wait, better include Bethlehem - where headlines blare trouble and pain, danger and distress, slowdown, scandal, recession, desperation and despair.

I’ve been thinking, between list-making, that, surely, it’s harder to have Christmas in hard times.

These are not the Depression years of our grandparents and great-grandparents - the “all we got for Christmas was an orange and a pair of socks” era. Times are tough, but not that tough.

Still, by all accounts, this will be the “worst” season of the consumer-driven Christmas era.

On paper - and on bottom lines - that may well be true.

But Christmas isn’t celebrated on paper.

And hard times often bring out the best in people.

Maybe recession can do what all those well-meaning lectures and sermons haven’t done: Get us to appreciate Christmas as it’s supposed to be, a simple, joyous celebration focused on faith and family and friends.

Maybe, just maybe, having less will inspire us to appreciate more.

Instead of calling this a “hard Christmas” or a “small Christmas,” why not proclaim it “The Christmas of What Really Matters.”

Less is more - in fashion and oratory. Why can’t less be more in Christmas?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not suggesting we celebrate hardship. People, especially the old and the young, should not be without the things that matter. That does not include, I might point out, a shiny new wafflemaker or a bright red talking Muppet.

What if we could find the real bottom line?

The one where it’s not a hardship to make merry while making do. The one where’s it’s not a calamity to have a calm, quiet, less consumer-driven Christmas.

Think back to those Depression-era grandparents and great grandparents. When they looked back on Christmas in hard times, they were not griping or whining. They were wistful and longing, remembering happy times, simple joys, a Christmas focused on what really mattered.

Maybe the upside of the downturn will be that we really do get back to the “old fashioned” Christmas instead of just singing about it.

This week, a magnificent, 84-year-old LaGrange woman - a child of the Depression - insisted on ringing the Salvation Army bell in pouring rain. Two of the people who dropped coins in her kettle were homeless - the poorest among us - and yet truly rich. People on both sides of that kettle “get it,” a lot better than a lot of folks who’ve “got it.”

Could that be the message, the beauty of a hard times Christmas? Could it give us a better shot at having The Christmas of What Really Matters?

That’s my hope for this season of hope.

These are dark times and, in dark times, maybe we will finally see the light.