our little tree
I love Christmas. I love the lights, I love the scents (cinnamon & sugar & clove), I love the food. Most of all, I love that the season makes us just a little more open to joy. I know the holidays are not all fun and games – they’re tough for those who don’t have family or have recently lost someone or don’t have the resources to partake in what can be a very expensive season. I know, too, that the holiday season can seem interminable and a bit grating, with congested shops, jingle bells on every corner, and exhortations to be cheerful when you’re feeling anything but.
But if you take everything superfluous away, at the heart of it, Christmas is about finding and rediscovering love and hope and salvation in the most unexpected places, be it remembering a baby born in a cold manger or remembering the important people and things in your life. It’s the season where we’re asked to be like a child again in that we’re open to being a little less jaded, a little less cynical, a little less adult and a little more open to amazement, wonder, and awe. It doesn’t mean all our problems go away or that everything is right (I’m definitely not there), but that through the good wishes and the chill in the air and the coming of a new beginning, we might be a little more hopeful.
Sometimes late at night right before I go to bed, I sit on our couch in the silence and the light and watch the snow fall, basking in the peace.
Here’s to a Christmas filled with hope, love, peace, and joy.