These arent just Christmas movies: Theyre like Kay Jewelers commercials on steroids; movie-length advertisements for small-town America, capitalism and twinkle lights. Theres so much Christmas magic packed into these two-hour (including commercials) movies that even the most hardened cynic will fall under the spell and many Americans have indeed fallen under the spell, making the Hallmark Channel, which airs little else this time of year, a ratings juggernaut .

As Ive learned over the past few weeks, I have a lot in common with made-for-TV holiday movie characters. I enjoy Christmas carols and the smell of pine needles. I used to bake cookies with my mom every December and rush down the stairs on Christmas morning to ogle the presents spread under the twinkling tree. But until this year, I didnt watch Hallmark Christmas movies, maybe because my life now resembles the sad, beginning-of-the-movie heroine more than the inspiring end-of-the-movie heroine I grew up, moved from Indiana to the big city, got a fast-paced media job, and now live in a small apartment with zero working fireplaces. (Hallmark abhors a small apartment.)

Then, my coworker Priscilla Frank and I were assigned to watch as many made-for-TV Christmas movies as we could in one week.

The plan: Watch as many made-for-TV Christmas movies (via Hallmark, Lifetime, Ion and Netflix) as we could cram into one calendar week, taking note of the special characteristics of the genre.

The motive: Find the root of the mysterious power and allure of low-budget seasonal holiday entertainment and maybe, just maybe, rediscover the holiday spirit weve lost over the years.

As the week began, two jaded New York journalists prepared to immerse ourselves in a world of towns called Evergreen and Cookie Jar; to go on a bender of tree lightings, snowball fights and mistletoe kisses. Would this be our Christmas miracle?