It is two days before Christmas. Or, as one child told me tonight {and he heard it on the news} it's less than 36 hours until Christmas. For real.
I'm torn this year. I'm torn between being content and feeling like we're all failing. I'm sure my mild obsession with Pinterest is somewhat to blame. Where we find links on how to have an all handmade Christmas, and stories about how commercialism is ruining Christmas, or how we can buy the best toys at the cheapest prices, customers crazed in the shops. We're told to believe in the reason for the season. The right reasons. I'm left feeling a bit hollow until I remember all of the ways to believe. And how magic brews in different ways, for different people, each family following their own traditions and who are we to judge? Who are we to compare in this everything is shared and liked and clicked on and how many people care about the pretty packages beneath my perfectly trimmed tree or perfectly worded persuasive essay world?
Just as I get sidelined with the "are we doing too much?" or "are we doing enough?" thoughts, I hear my children singing carols in the next room. Off key and with messed up lyrics. The sounds couldn't be sweeter. And then my daughter comes up to me and starts talking about baby Jesus and Santa and her eyes are filled with magic. I believe in that kind of magic. I also believe there is magic in the fresh snow, children laughing as they bound through uncharted snowy territory. There is holiness in stringing popcorn and cranberries into a garland, fingers pricked by needles countless times. There is something to be cherished in the moment when one child is searching for the perfect gift for his or her sibling, maybe a glow in the dark solar system book. Yes, there are grand gestures that can be made, and perspective and love kept in handmade gifts, but there is also magic in the perfect store bought gifts. My Little Pony, or a programmable robot, eyes twinkling as a wish is granted and the realization that Santa read their lists. Santa is magic. Christmas is magic. Snowflakes and babes in mangers and twinkle lights and wonder... they are all magic.
There is magic in all of it, big and small.
From our house to yours, Merry Christmas.
I hope you find the magic, and believe in it greatly.
I'm torn this year. I'm torn between being content and feeling like we're all failing. I'm sure my mild obsession with Pinterest is somewhat to blame. Where we find links on how to have an all handmade Christmas, and stories about how commercialism is ruining Christmas, or how we can buy the best toys at the cheapest prices, customers crazed in the shops. We're told to believe in the reason for the season. The right reasons. I'm left feeling a bit hollow until I remember all of the ways to believe. And how magic brews in different ways, for different people, each family following their own traditions and who are we to judge? Who are we to compare in this everything is shared and liked and clicked on and how many people care about the pretty packages beneath my perfectly trimmed tree or perfectly worded persuasive essay world?
Just as I get sidelined with the "are we doing too much?" or "are we doing enough?" thoughts, I hear my children singing carols in the next room. Off key and with messed up lyrics. The sounds couldn't be sweeter. And then my daughter comes up to me and starts talking about baby Jesus and Santa and her eyes are filled with magic. I believe in that kind of magic. I also believe there is magic in the fresh snow, children laughing as they bound through uncharted snowy territory. There is holiness in stringing popcorn and cranberries into a garland, fingers pricked by needles countless times. There is something to be cherished in the moment when one child is searching for the perfect gift for his or her sibling, maybe a glow in the dark solar system book. Yes, there are grand gestures that can be made, and perspective and love kept in handmade gifts, but there is also magic in the perfect store bought gifts. My Little Pony, or a programmable robot, eyes twinkling as a wish is granted and the realization that Santa read their lists. Santa is magic. Christmas is magic. Snowflakes and babes in mangers and twinkle lights and wonder... they are all magic.
There is magic in all of it, big and small.
From our house to yours, Merry Christmas.
I hope you find the magic, and believe in it greatly.