By no means am I being a modern-day Plato when I say Sufjan has changed my life in a million ways, both tiny and monumental. I know he’s done the same for all of us; it’s why we’re brought here on this wonderful site together. He changes your perspective on things. Swans are different for me now, Chevy Avalanches are different for me now, the word “abundant” is different for me now…You get it.

And above all that, I know I’m not being even a little bit original when I say Sufjan has changed Christmas for me. I didn’t anticipate how difficult it would be to find an angle from which to write this story since I initially was afraid of parroting everyone else by mistake.

I realized then, though, that I should look right in front of me and take my song’s advice. And have a holly jolly Christmas. It is, after all, the best time of the year.

When I say Sufjan changed Christmas for me, I mean that in a big and beautiful way.

A few years ago, I would have laughed at the prospect of submitting a story for a Sufjan Christmas website. I was a regular Grinch with a penchant for complaining about all the warm mushy stuff the season is evocative of. I scoffed at the music and the festivities and the cheery goodness. It was always too early for Christmas songs for me, even if it was December 24th. There was ONE little carol, though, that always broke down my fortress a little bit. You guessed it: Holly Jolly Christmas. Burl Ives’s perfect Christmas crooning was the one thing capable of warming me up and thawing out my metaphorical icicles.

My mother always played that song when I was little (before my holiday cynicism), which is no doubt the root of my soft spot. We moved into a new home during December one year when I wasn’t even a teenager yet, and it was an uncertain and scary time of my life. But I still remember my mother humming “Holly Jolly Christmas” while she helped me unpack the one little box of Christmas décor we could take with us. I was terrified by our shaky circumstances, but the memory of my mother humming that song to me while we tried to settle in has stuck with me. Even years later, when I was the embodiment of bah humbug, I played “Holly Jolly Christmas” on repeat when I was alone and told no one. (Imagine having a Christmas song as your guilty pleasure.)

Fast forward. Enter Sufjan. More specifically, enter Sufjan’s Christmas songs. Even more specifically, enter the sweet sound of Sufjan’s “Holly Jolly Christmas.” To bring back my Grinch metaphor, my heart grew three sizes the first time I listened to it.

It’s perfect. It’s the prime example of Sufjan’s mastery overtaking a classic and innovating it and turning it upside down while also still somehow keeping it right-side up. He makes it new and makes it uniquely his, while also keeping intact and preserving its familiarity and tradition. I don’t think Sufjan’s cover of “Holly Jolly Christmas” is a track people stop and listen to as much as some other standouts on Silver & Gold, but it’s one I hold incredibly close. I’m going to root for it right here and now and say that if you haven’t given it a good, solid chance, please do. If you’re anything at all like me, it’ll blow your mind and end up on repeat for at least an hour. (That’s an understatement. Maybe something like six hours.)

Among many other lessons, Sufjan taught me that dwelling in bitterness isn’t how anyone deserves to live. After years of doing just that, I’m proud to say my affinity for all things warm and fuzzy is back now in my adulthood, and I know Sufjan’s Christmas music played a role in that restoration. “Holly Jolly Christmas,” in particular, breathed new life into a happy childhood memory and reminded me how beautiful the holidays could be.

Clearly, I’m no mean Mr. Grinch anymore. If you’re wondering how I feel about Christmas these days, I’ve had my tree up and decorated since December 1st. I live in my own apartment now, and there are at least ten little Santa Clauses looking at me right now as I write this. And for memory’s sake, I played Sufjan’s “Holly Jolly Christmas” in my room and hummed it to myself while I unpacked my box of decorations this year.