It is ever so late on Christmas eve. Christmas morning, really, as I glance at the clock hanging above our door. The tree is aglow with twinkling lights that shine into my eyes and make the tears fall a bit more sparkly down my cheek. These are tears of wonder.
Santa has already arrived, somehow passing me magically in the night. Under the tree are packages wrapped up in red and silver and green, joys for little boys come the first light of the morning. The stockings hanging on the wood stove are filled just to above the rim with candy and little treats, sure to bring about oohs and aahs of excitement. The stockings are always my favorite surprise, and I love digging clear to the bottom to retrieve the nuts, apple, and orange I know will be hiding there.
Music filled with Christmas words are giving me my own private concert and I listen to the song about the birth of baby Jesus, our Lord and Savior. I wander over to my nativity and gently touch baby Jesus there in the manger. I say a silent prayer of Thanks for this life I have been afforded. For my husband, and my children who never fail to be the stables in my life, for the family and friends that show me love and care throughout the years, and for a warm home, good food, and just this feeling of wonder that pulses through my body as I stand in this, my very own living room, so peaceful and cozy and yes, all mine. This is my life, and I am thankful.
As I turn out the lights I carefully step over Santa's footsteps...dirty ho-ho-ho footprints which make their way from our hearth to the tree and amaze my little ones year after year. It is the little things, the simplicity, which brings the most surprise. I leave teh Christmas lights on as I close the door behind me, knowing sleep will be short, but filled with pleasant thoughts of this beautiful holiday.
I can't wait for excited shouts of HE CAME, HE CAME. I can't wait for the twinkle I know I will find as I search the beauty of my children's faces. I can't wait to give my husband a Christmas morning kiss, filled with all the thanks I never find the words to say on a daily basis. I can't wait to be handed a package with my name on it, written in shaky handprint from a soul so old, yet ever so magical as the dawning of his birth. I can't wait to hear the church bells sound, inviting us all to remember the reason for this day, even as we rip at the beautiful paper and find the floor again. I can't wait, I'm just as jittery as I was when I was a five-year-old girl, filled with the same awe and wonder and surprise and excitement. Now, I hold it a bit closer to my heart, and it is awakened in the form of thankful tears in place of the shouts and laughter. Tomorrow, at the first light, my laughter will be achieved.
I walk up the staircase, knowing my children are sleeping soundly and safely in their beds. I climb in bed next to my husband, where he has turned on my warming blanket to welcome me. It feels so comfy and I pull the covers over me and snuggle next to him. His arm automatically pulls me towards his chest, even as his breathing is deep and sound. I close my eyes and let the magic of Christmas ensconce me in a dream. A dream which is my reality. The reality of my life.
Merry Christmas From Our Family to Yours. May you believe in the magic of Christmas!!!