Depends on your definition of a great Christmas.
I grew up working class and my Christmas was amazing - every year mum baked and baked, the house constantly smelled of her homemade mincemeat, Christmas cake, Christmas pudding. Everyone had a job - I made the Christmas pickle, dad peeled the chestnuts, we all did the decorations (mainly holly and fir branches from our garden).
We wrote our cards together, and collectively wrapped small gifts to go under the tree.
We hosted and visited neighbours and friends, went to church twice as often as normal.
Some years we made crackers, some years we helped put festive decorations at church, some years we went door to door collecting for the Salvation Army, some years we went to the local am-dram panto.
We watched movies and ate too much cheese and played board games. My dad would smoke one cigar on Boxing Day, my mum would drink sherry. My gran would sit and chop up the Xmas cards for next year’s gift tags, and smooth out the wrapping paper to reuse (NO ONE ripped into presents in our house - I truly thought everyone reused their Xmas wrapping paper every year and could never understand why the shops were full of it!)
We literally rejoiced, every year, for the entire month of December.
I don’t think my kids “get” Christmas - the undiluted joy of it. It doesn’t need a cash injection to be magical.