For the past several years, my husband and I traveled to be with them and were touched to be wanted and included in their celebrations. For some reason, we stopped all holiday traditions here -- too much trouble, not enough time. We were leaving anyway. Why bother? Just put a candle in each window. Enough, right?
As it turns out, no. This year I am alone for the first time in over forty years. And so I've been rethinking how I prepare my heart for Christmas. Surprise! I've discovered that I've missed the angels, the nativity, all the treasured tree ornaments made with love for my family or collected for so many years, along with all the memories that go with them. And so out they all came, memories, a few tears and all.
My favorite is the dear little plaster and cardboard nativity set. I still remember going with my parents to Woolworths when I was five to buy the stable, holy family and wise men. The next year we added shepherds, sheep, camels, a pig and a cow. Poor cow, she has only one horn now, but still she keeps patient vigil by the Christ child.
What is different this year is that, rather than holding Christmas at bay, I have welcomed it back into my home, and created a quiet sanctuary from the noise and seasonal craziness outside. This has made such a difference in my own attitude as the days race by.
I'll be going off in the morning to spend a country Christmas with one of my sons and daughters-in-law, and am very much looking forward to the visit. Once I leave the heavy interstate highway traffic behind, there is time to enjoy the journey, too. They live along a rural lane and it's peaceful there -- no malls nearby, no blaring carols, no giant toy stores, no traffic jams. It's a quiet, lovely and gentle place to spend time with my loved ones, and to celebrate the birth of Christ. My heart is open. Welcome, Christmas.
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