Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas!

A good many don't know this, but Christmas is my favorite holiday. I sing carols all year long. Most of the music I own is Christmas music. I think of what I can make to give and to whom through-out the year. And when the tree is finally, socially, allowed to be put up, I will sit in a darkened room, in the quiet solitude and and watch it.

The lights blur and twinkle. The ornaments shine. And a calm joy fills me.

I remember Christmases past and the events, foods, and gifts fade. The Spirit of it remains. I remember the joy, the friends and family, the connection. I remember being loved.

In December, Christianity celebrates the Month of Christ: Christmas. In it they make a show of loving, of caring, of whitewashing their souls in the Season.

And for me, even with all the frustrations, aggravations and problems associated with the holidays, I wouldn't trade it for the world.

So, please, allow me to wish you a Merry Christmas. May the joy and light of the Season see you through the coming year. Bless you all.

I Still Wait For Santa

My dear friends, I am no longer a youth wide-eyed and letter writing. The magic has faded as I know the magician. No longer does Santa come to visit me at my house. No longer do I waited with baited breath, straining to hear the tale-tale sounds of Santa Claus visiting. No mysterious presents appear beneath my tree.

I have known the meanings of the symbols and trappings of the season since childhood. I learned the customs of several cultures. And I don't think the trappings, symbols or myths detract one bit from the purpose of the season. They add to it and give it flavor.

And knowing Santa as I do, I still wait for him. I feel the hope within my chest as Christmas approaches that this year he'll come again. This year the magic will return and I'll wake to the joys of Christmas morn as I once did in childhood.

You might say that this is but wishful thinking, or stupidity upon my part. It might be. I choose to think of it as hope in things greater, things unexplained, in possibilities and dreams. I choose to hope for the magic of innocence and the beauty therein.

And so I will keep waiting for Santa. One day, he will come again. I hope he will find me ready and waiting.

Merry Christmas.