Every Christmas Eve I go outside and search the sky for either The Star of Bethlehem or Santa Clause. “Either will do”, I always think as I scan the sky searching for these two beautiful images of hope that define Christmas.
I love the holidays, starting with Thanksgiving. It’s a day that my family gathers to cook, eat, play games and enjoy our time together. I love the hectic shopping, in hopes to find that perfect gift that will light up the faces of my loved ones.
I love lighting our advent candles, hearing my children singing, I find such joy in the cheesy Hallmark movies with the same plot but I still have to see the ending of. I love Christmas Day and the joy that surrounds it. Unwrapping presents, the laughter that fills my home throughout the day. I love New Years Eve and New Year’s Day, the fresh start a New Year promises and how we make resolutions in hopes of an even better upcoming year.
But the thing I love most about Christmas is the way our hearts get a little bigger during this time, there is a joy and hope in this season that I wish I could bottle up and open throughout the year, when we all return to our normal selves.
You may think reading this that I live some perfect life where all my holidays resemble scenes from Currier and Ives, actually that is far from the truth.
I worked almost every Christmas Day or Christmas Eve when my children were young, and the ones that I was not working my husband was at work out of town. We have spent holidays stranded in airports, sitting in emergency rooms, alone and surrounded by people that made me wish I was alone. Last year we spent our Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in the ICU with my mother following her stroke that ended her life shortly after New Years. This year my mother in law died on the same day my mom had her her stroke last year, 2 days before Christmas.
Still every year I search the skies for Santa Clause, who brings joy to children of every age and the beautiful star that symbolizes the birth of Christ, bringing hope for eternal life to all. Maybe one year I will look to the skies and be fortunate enough to see one of those beautiful images, but for now I know even if I don’t see them shining in the Texas sky, I will see them in the faces of all those filled with the joy of this magical season.
Merry Christmas.
Pink Hat Gypsy 