This Christmas Morning

In my youth Christmas meant grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles and all the cheery music and contagious laughter of the season. Christmas meant going to church and driving to Brooklyn and wearing velvet dresses. Christmas meant giving to everyone and was crowded with family all doing the same thing year after year after year until traditions changed and then it was something else for years more before it changed again to something different every year. But Christmas is a feeling that tingles like joy does. Small and quiet and then huge.

Brooklyn family Christmas 1960's

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Light Up the Dark

Is there anything more wonderful than our collective efforts to deck the halls with shimmering lights during the shortest days of the year? Come December, artificial brightness runs along eaves and doorways, up and around trees, and in between every dark corner of our neighborhoods with gusto. To our delight our new SoCal town has brought the Simply Sensational along every street. What better reminder that darkness holds little sway with even a speck of illumination? These days, with the billionaire bros recent acquisition of our presidency, I’ll gladly accept an extra dose of cheer when it comes my way. After all, “In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself.”– Albus Dumbledore (J.K. Rowling), “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.” Hope, even in the form of white lights is most welcome, everywhere. Apparently, I am not alone in my appreciation and gratitude for the nature of radiance among the shadows.

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