After months of complaining, dreading, fighting, and ignoring it, the Christmas spirit finally hit me—hard.
We went to get our tree today. For years, we’ve gone and cut down our own. The farm we go to has bunnies, hot chocolate, a trail by a waterfall, ducks to feed and a gift shop full of door prizes (My son even won a gingerbread house once). But this year, it was cold, and I was tired, and I thought, maybe, we can just grab one at Wal-mart since I’ll be there for the third time in three days.
But, tradition persevered, and I am so glad it did.
“This is my favorite part,” said my son, as he and his sister searched for the perfect tree.
Watching them run excitedly, I felt my spirits lift a little and caught myself humming a Christmas carol. We soon got the tree home and decorated. The stockings were hung. We have lights on the mantle, the banister, the tree and outside our house. The kids are happy and on their best behavior.
I thought to myself, “I love Christmas. Why have I been dreading it?”
Our stocking holders spell out the word “Peace,” practically chosen because we have five in our family; however, this year, in these tumultuous times, the word seems to take on an even greater meaning. And despite the chaos of the season, of everyday life, of the economy, I am truly happy and wish this time of year could last just a little longer.
Merry Christmas and peace be with you. Now go pass it on before it's too late.