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The meaning of Christmas

Although I've put up the obligatory tree (pre-lit, ten minutes), placed evergreen boughs on the mantle, and put my childhood nativity set on the bookshelf, it still doesn't seem like Christmas--at least not yet. There's no stress, but no excitement, either. Actually, I'm feeling a sense of relief.

When Herbie was around, Christmas was a whirlwind. A toy for every great-niece and nephew, as many cookies as my kitchen could produce, chocolate and peanut butter fudge, a real tree, presents filling the living room, and a houseful of people for the family visits. It was such fun, and I was so tired. I never had enough time or money to do all the things we planned, and I always missed something.

After his passing, Christmas became quieter. Rachel and John and my grand-dog, Dixie, stayed for the week, I put up a tree, but cut back on the food. Presents were easy, because the kids were just out of college and getting started in life. When I moved to Georgia, I worked long hours and focused on getting rest during the few days I had off.

This year is different. I spent last fall teaching, so my semester ended this week. Now I have two weeks until Christmas, and I have several weeks after Christmas until I go back. I feel like I've retired, and I don't know what to do next! I've cleaned, read, blogged, and overused my cell phone minutes. I bought gifts for the few people I still exchange with, and stopped when I ran out of money. Last night I wrote Christmas cards. I have nothing more left to do to prepare for the holiday except relax.

Except that it's hard to relax when you're used to working. So here I am at the computer, doing what I do most readily. I am relieved that Christmas has finally found a comfortable place in my life -- and that I am comfortable in Christmas. I wish you all God's peace now and in the new year.

Mrs. B

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