I don't know whether Jesus was born on 25th December, September or mid-July and to be honest, I don't think it matters all that much. What matters is that He was born. He gave up the glory of heaven, the constant worship of the angels to be born as a human being like me and eventually grow up and be killed for me.
I remember Christmas as a child was a real time of excitement. Santa always outdid himself :) eventually the thrill of receiving presents faded away (though I did receive two cracking knitting books today!). At first the fading away used to leave me feeling disappointed but today I felt contented. God looked at me through the eyes of eternity and said to Himself, "she's worth dying for". This revelation is becoming more and more real to me, leaving me (for one of the first times) to conclude that I have something to live for. Happy Birthday, Lord.