I was talking to my mother the other day about Christmas and why I love it. The conversation wrapped around to not having a lot as I was growing up. Huh. I don't remember that. Yeah as a kid I loved the gifts and I don't remember any shortage of them. What I remember is hiding in the bushes and trying not to giggle so we wouldn't get caught delivering gifts as drop and run. I remember singing carols with my Mom's whole family. I remember waiting with my brothers and sisters to see what Santa brought. There was Rudolph kisses left on our noses more than one Christmas eve. There was caroling in the cold and coming home to warm hot cocoa. There was hugs and love. There was so much love. I remember very few gifts. The one gift I remember most was a vanity table that used to be my grandmothers. It wasn't new and it wasn't expensive it was meaningful and beautiful. Oranges filled the toe of our stocking every year, and I could sure count on peanuts in my stocking. Christmas is my favorite time of year. Not for the gifts. Not for the snow. Not for the hustle and bustle. But there is a feeling of love and memories of warmth and family. The lights are are like stars shining and leading the way back to a time when Christmas meant something a lot more simple. Like one of my favorite Christmas songs says:
C is for the Christ child Born upon this day
R is our Redeemer
S is for the star that shone so bright
T is for three wise men, they who traveled far
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