Christmas Day was spent with my dad this year on the ranch in Tatum. It was nice to be home…somewhere where there are more stars than you can dream of. Interestingly, it was the first Christmas morning I have ever spent there, even though I grew up in that house. Our traditions weren’t there, but elsewhere in other loving and warm homes.
The magic of Christmas morning is something I find almost indescribable. I love the rush of feet storming a room for stockings and toys. I love the awe in their eyes as they notice the milk and cookies gone. Surprise and joy…no different than when we too were children.
But that magic is so much different now that those excited giggles belong to my children. Now I am the one encouraging belief in mystical and imaginative images of hope and love. Together Brian and I are feeding the precious innocence of childhood joys, in turn being reminded of the importance of belief in good will within those around us.
As this holiday season comes to a close, my children nestled all snug in their beds, I look back on what we have done in the last 25 days. A new tradition begun, the story of our Savior told like never before, and the importance of giving emphasized wholly. I am proud.
Today our Christmas tree came down. If all goes as planned, it won’t be put up in this house again. Our Christmas lights won’t twinkle at the doorway. Our garland won’t grace the mantle piece. Where these things will be next year – what the future holds – is unknown. But I find comfort, for myself and my family. As the tree came down today, Jeremy walked with tears in his eyes…”Christmas is really over, Mommy.” And what came out of my mouth without even a second thought calmed my future fears.
“Jeremy, remember what is Christmas all about?” “Jesus…and giving to others.” “Then that means Christmas is with you always, any day…here in your heart.”