Even those who claim to celebrate Christmas with some religious or traditional conviction are often confused about what it all means, so no wonder the pupils struggle at times.

I once asked a little boy rehearsing for the nativity play at a Catholic school in England what it was all about and he said, 'there's some donkeys and a baby and his mum. Oh and there's a bloke with a beard, and they're looking for some kings or something'. And his mother was not only a teacher, but could be seen at that very moment at the front of the hall chastising two of the three wise men for some distinctly unwise behaviour with a shepherd.

What do children who have lived their lives in Hong Kong make of it all? Do they really understand why their nice teacher seems to have lost all sense of taste wearing a gaudy jumper from an outlet shop that lights up every time they sit down? They may grasp that the weird-looking plastic tree in the corner promises presents and perhaps sweets, but a fairy on top? While some may have been skiing on holiday, the spraying of artificial snow over otherwise perfectly good windows will genuinely perplex most.

I asked a six-year old Chinese boy born in Hong Kong what Christmas meant to him. I looked surprised when he said, 'snow' admitting that he had never seen any in Hong Kong. When asked where it came from he replied, 'maybe an angel threw it down from the sky, making it from clouds'. Readers can draw their own conclusion as to whether he has used Christmas to fire his imaginary genius or is simply confused.

What do teachers tell pupils? Even the gainsays feel duty bound not to burst the bubbles of deception built up by others. If an eight-year-old still believes Father Christmas comes down the lift shaft to deliver half the stock of Toys-R-Us on December 25 that is usually respected by even the most cynical member of staff. Some of these will avoid organised social events, scoff at mince pies in the staff room and walk through smelly toilets to avoid passing beneath mistletoe. But even they get caught up in the annual excuse to suspend disbelief and give themselves over to the joy of community celebration.

Life is hard enough and Christmas comes but once a year.

Picture the child who has been told that Father Christmas makes his annual rounds to reward those who are good. When he opens his big round eyes, looks up and sighs, 'but he doesn't come to me', the choice is between commiserating or thinking again about the value of checking what Christmas means to them, if anything.

Then picture another who has English as an additional language and has been asked to sing the words, 'myrhh is mine; its bitter perfume, breathes a life of gathering gloom' from the carol We Three Kings during a service or an assembly. Teachers might be able to explain the first line but a busload of philosophers would have trouble with the second. And as for 'offspring of a virgin's womb' from Hark the Herald Angels Sin. Well, I sympathise.

Some schools are taking the comedy route this time around and performing entertaining Christmas extravaganzas with an almost Disneyesque quality. Given that it is from cartoons that some pupils pick up their cultural norms this can work. Quite what it says to already disoriented youngsters only they can say.

Despite the fact that much of the language and ritual of Christmas is not only culturally anchored far from these shores but also somehow just as far in the past, the festival has a strange resonance. Perhaps the obsession of some people in Hong Kong for money and possessions is the reason. Perhaps media programming and advertising hype strike home. But whatever the explanation, it is rare to find a school that does not acknowledge it in some form. It just might be an excuse to put a picture of a ridiculous large man in Wellingtons and a red jump suit (with trimmings) carrying a voluminous sack (containing the promise of a better year ahead) in the entrance hall. Still, the class party makes up for it all. The healthiest food may well be sugar coated and chocolate shaped like a reindeer but all rituals are forgotten in the joy of boisterous games and activities. Wrapping a teacher up in toilet tissue paper, as witnessed at a party last year, is as thrilling as it is instructive for pupils who feel education is about getting things done to them. At least this once they got to run rings round their teacher.

Teachers do not facilitate everything in all schools. A local Catholic school for girls reports that every year following a celebration of the birthday of Jesus, formal masses and class prayers, pupils organise their own activities and enjoy the independence that brings from the routine of curriculum drudgery and homework. 'I don't get involved in that,' the principal tells me with a smile on her face.

Despite professional etiquette, teachers are congenitally programmed for fun, but even so, things can get out of hand. What should they do, for example, when a particularly persistent parent invites the whole class to a party at McDonalds and insists they come along? They probably do what a colleague did and, realising it was a thinly veiled attempt to get some free supervision, swiftly decline hinting darkly at criminal harassment.

Beleaguered staff members are rewarded for their patience and perseverance with thoughtful gifts and tokens of esteem.

While they may range from the tacky to the embarrassing, it does not matter. What matters is that little Michael, Mary or Mei Wong genuinely believe that those three glass rabbits or the cushion that tinkles We Wish You a Merry Christmas when you sit on it take pride of place in their teacher's heart. They are probably right.

The wider Hong Kong community also benefits. Several schools are involved in SANTA (Send A New Toy Appeal) where children take a toy to school for those less fortunate, the German Swiss School is giving proceeds from a carol concert to the ethnic minority Hong Kong Poinsettia community primary school, and pupils from the International Christian School are at large in malls, offices and hospitals spreading their message to businessmen, shoppers and the sick.

In a multicultural society like Hong Kong and in schools representing, in some cases, dozens of nationalities, we can celebrate our differences as well as similarities at any time of the year. Perhaps the true message of Christmas in schools is that at least for a short while we are all exactly the same whatever our creed, cultural background or skin colour: completely mad. Merry Christmas.

Paul McGuire is deputy head of an English Schools Foundation primary school.