Words for Wednesday: Christmas card thoughts

It’s December already! And that means busyness. There’s always a list of items to accomplish before December 25^th arrives if you are a Christmas celebrator.

One of those items for me is preparing Christmas greetings. It’s a custom that seems to be waning and I wonder how many folks opt for sending Christmas e-cards to everyone on their list or simply just eliminating Christmas greetings altogether.

I’m a stickler when it comes to sending Christmas cards via snail mail. Why? Because I have always loved getting mail all my life and when my mailbox at the end of the driveway is filled with cards, my heart just sings with joy to be remembered by our friends and family this way.

I not only like to receive cards though; I like to be the giver of them also. Because Papa and I have lived in several areas of the country over our married life, we still have friends and acquaintances afar we keep in touch with at Christmas.

I usually send a letter along with our cards just to update the receivers on our family life. And I revel in getting those kinds of missives from them too.

But times have changed – not to mention the cost of Christmas stamps to send cards. My Christmas card list which used to include 70+ names has been reduced significantly. But the reason isn’t because I’ve narrowed my list, or we don’t receive as many cards as we used to.

Instead, I’m sad to say my Christmas card list diminished because so many people we know have passed away. Every year, when I get out my trusty card list (I actually have a small hard-back book for that purpose), I find I must scratch off another name or two and mark “deceased” over those.

So many folks gone from this life. Some because they were older friends and family, but others because their lives were shortened by illness. And yet, my Christmas card list reminds me of them, giving me fond memories.

Like one of my college friends, Carol (not her real name). Way back in our college dormitories, she and I became friends, and the bonus was that her soccer playing boyfriend became my friend as well.

After college graduation, we went our separate ways, married our beaus, and eventually began having children, but we never lost touch with each other. Even after I moved many times to many different places and she remained in her hometown, we always sent Christmas cards with personal letters included to each other.

We exchanged photos of our growing children and we vowed to meet up when possible. And we succeeded a couple of times.

But the Christmas greetings were constant, year after year. Until a couple of years ago. I sent our card but didn’t receive one from her. I chocked it up to either lost mail or simply too much busyness with married children and grandchildren now completing her family circle.

But then, the next year again, no Christmas card from Carol. I still do not know why I sat down at the computer and googled my friend’s name. I thought perhaps she was on social media, and I could contact her that way to see if all was well in her world.

I never expected to find my old college friend’s obituary. As I read it online, tears formed. My friend, who once was so full of life and fun and sassiness, had passed away from dementia six months before I found her obit. Dementia in her 60’s, so heart wretching for me to believe.

Just recently, I discovered that another friend, also in her 60’s, succumbed to Alzheimer’s in the past year. I was shocked. But I think often of my Irish friend every time I look at the beautiful teapot she once gifted to me.

I suppose I’m at that age when I need to expect the reality of it all, but eliminating names from my Christmas card list still saddens me. However, I choose to remember those who are gone with fond memories.

And my Christmas card list reminds me of those.

As long as I’m able, I’ll continue to send greetings to those still in my world to let my friends know how much I treasure them now. And hopefully, those cards bring a little joy and remembrance of my friendship to them.

“It’s not where you go. It’s the friends you make along the way.” ~ unknown

©mamasemptynest.wordpress.com 2023

Words for Wednesday: the real Santa Claus

Photo by Jesson Mata on Unsplash

[Spoiler alert: If you are one of those who still believe in Santa Claus, you may not want to read my post today.] 😉

I’ve seen a lot of Santas in my day. I still vividly recall sitting as a wee mite on jolly ol’ Saint Nicholas’ lap in the now defunct Montgomery Ward department store once located in my hometown.

That same year I distinctly heard jingle bells outside my bedroom window on Christmas Eve. Shortly afterwards, my mother came into the room to tell me someone special waited in the living room to see me.

And there he was! Santa Claus standing right there as big as bold next to our real Christmas pine tree all decked out with big light bulbs (not mini twinkling ones), shiny glass ornaments, and plenty of shimmering icicles.  (It was the late 1950’s after all.)

Santa Claus gave me a gift – and not just a material one but a fond memory – on that very special night. Many years later, my parents informed me that I was a keen observer as a little girl.

After Santa left our house that particular Christmas Eve, I remarked to them that Santa looked awfully thin since the last time I saw him at Montgomery Ward just a few days before Christmas. And on top of that, his boots were brown and before they were black!

So, who was that Santa imposter? Our well-meaning and kind neighbor Mabel, who sought to delight me with a “magical” visit that Christmas.

She was the same dear soul who phoned us one Easter, asked to speak to me, and told me she saw the Easter bunny in our yard hiding something by the massive oak tree in our front yard. (Whoops, another spoiler alert! Mabel was the Easter Bunny too that year.)

After Papa and I married and were blessed with children of our own, visits to Santa Claus were the norm, often with a photo taken of that special day. And now that we are grandparents of three delightful little ones, that red-suited jolly fellow is special once again!

During our family Thanksgiving, we all visited a special Christmas Land (if you missed that post yesterday, click here), where our three sweet ones got to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what good little girls they had been and what they wanted for Christmas.

A cute photo of them ensued and it is a treasure for certain. But what I will not soon forget about that special visit, besides the fact that all our grandchildren visited Santa together for the first time, is that this Santa Claus was no novice. Nor did he seem like just an imposter.

He seemed real! He was, by far, the BEST Santa Claus I think I’ve ever seen.

He was so endearing with the children, so kind, so interested in what they had to say (and they said a lot!). He took his time with all three of them posing for the camera and then individually took each one on his lap and spoke to them singly, even though the waiting line was long.

What an amazing Santa he truly was for our little sweeties. But then, after each of our grandchildren individually gave him a hug goodbye, Santa leaped to his feet.

What on earth? “Wait,” he exclaimed. “There’s one more person in your family that needs a hug from Santa!”

I was so astonished I almost missed getting that shot with my camera, so it’s not the best. But what Santa did that day not only warmed my heart for how he treated our beloved grandchildren, but for his recognition and kind appreciation for Papa!

You see, Papa had worn his baseball cap that day – the one he wears often. The one that proudly displays an emblem for the United States Army, the military my husband served in. Santa noticed.

As he shook my shocked husband’s hand and said, “Thank you, sir, for your service,” Santa enveloped him with a giant bear hug in front of a crowd of people.

Santa Claus. The epitome of a giving soul, whether you believe in him or not. His actions and caring personality really shined that day in the middle of a crowded retail store. And it warmed my heart and moved me quite close to tears.

Hmm…maybe he does exist. Maybe there’s a little bit of Santa Claus in each of us if we just let it show.

“The greatest thing is not to believe in Santa Claus; it is to be Santa Claus.” ~ Pat Boone

©mamasemptynest.wordpress.com 2022

Tuesday’s Tales of Christmas Past, Part 3

(While this empty nest Mama and Papa prepare for an all in the family Christmas with our grown kids and little grandchildren and focus on the real meaning of that celebration, I’m sharing a few of my blog posts from years ago in these Tuesday’s Tales of Christmas Past. This one from December 2018 was titled “Jesus Won’t Stay in the Corner.” I hope it blesses you today. )

On one of our travels this past year, we ventured into some Christmas stores. You know, those shops with nothing but Christmas décor for sale year round.

I love Christmas, I truly do. And I do enjoy decorating the Christmas pine in a festive way with special ornaments, many from places we’ve lived or traveled to and collected over our 40+ years of marriage. 

In addition, every year since our first child’s birth, I’ve purchased some kind of special Christmas ornament for each of our children. When they were small, my intention was to accumulate these ornaments, adding to them each year, so that when they grew up and left this nest called home, they would have a box of ornaments to put on their very own Christmas trees.

As they got old enough, I would let them choose their own ornament. So each of our three left home for adulthood with a box of Christmas memories.

And even though it’s been many years now since the last fledgling flew out of our nest, I still look far and wide for a special ornaments to gift them and have added our two granddaughters to the Christmas ornament search list as well.

So, if there’s a Christmas shop handy, I’m in it, gleaning over the shelves, searching for just the right bauble.

One shop we visited on a trip this past summer looked promising. Entering the store, Christmas music was playing and the place was loaded with joyous Noel items everywhere.

Honestly, there seemed to be every kind of ornament imaginable – any theme, you name it, they had it. Some of the ornaments I felt were questionable to pass as Christmas tree decorations, but you know, to each his own.

Papa and I would just shake our heads at many of them and move on to the next shelf. We looked high, we looked low. And we finally did find a couple of ornaments to purchase – one for our oldest daughter and her hubby and one for a friend of mine.

But in all of our searching and perusing of the items in this Christmas shop, something was noticeably missing.

Where was Jesus – you know, the reason for the season? The Christ. The Savior of the world that Christmas is named for.

In the very back room of this store with many rooms, in the very far left corner of that room on a shelf down low below your eye level, a couple of small nativity sets occupied a tiny space.

That was all.  I had to bend over and practically touch my shoulder to my ear to even see them sitting here in that forlorn little corner.

No other decorations proclaiming the meaning of Christmas could be found in that shop. None. Nothing about Jesus other than that tiny little baby in the two or three crèches. Just that and absolutely nothing more.

So what did Jesus do to deserve being put in the corner, out of the way, where no one would see Him?

He had the audacity to fulfill ancient prophecy as the Messiah – the long-awaited Savior.   He exhibited absolute obedience to His Father by allowing himself to be taken to slaughter – this Lamb of God – hung on a cross in place of every sinner, dying for the love of His life – us.

He had the purest, unadulterated form of love for mankind than anyone else who has ever walked on this place called earth has ever possessed. Because He surrendered Himself for me. For you. For every single soul who chooses to believe in Him and accept His free and unconditional gift of grace – salvation.

Some day He won’t be put in the corner – forgotten and dusty. Because someday He’s coming back. And all of those Christmas ornaments that seem to gleam and glitter and catch our attention will be worthless.

They will not matter.

Because every knee will bow, every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. He IS the reason for the season.

“The great challenge left to us is to cut through all the glitz and glam of the season that has grown increasingly secular and commercial, and be reminded of the beauty of the One who is Christmas.” -Bill Crowder

©2021 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Tuesday’s Tales of Christmas Past

(Mama’s been down for the count – 10 days of weathering a sinus infection – and time is short until all of the chickens come home to roost. In other words, all of our grown kids and little grandchildren will arrive to celebrate Christmas here in the empty nest. And Mama and Papa are behind in getting ready for the celebration.

So on Tuesdays for the next few weeks until Christmas is over, I’m revisiting some of my earlier blog posts in hopes you may like reading them again or maybe for the first time. This one is from December 2010. I hope you enjoy it!)

It’s hard not to be crafty at Christmas. 

Oh, I don’t mean being crafty in the sense of the definition of the word: sly, shrewd, cunning or deceptive,  although I suppose you could call many people crafty at Christmas time.

There’s the shrewd way some people act at the mall when they slide into a parking spot first while you were patiently waiting for the previous car to vacate the space. 

Some people are downright cunning as they push and shove their way through crowds to get the very last [insert newest, hottest selling toy here]. 

And often times, we are very deceptive as we hide the Christmas presents or even the Christmas cookies so they won’t all be eaten before Christmas arrives!

No, I don’t mean that kind of crafty.  I’m thinking more about those who are like Martha Stewart.  Whoa, wait a minute, she did go to jail once….perhaps she was cunning or deceptive, huh?  Well, let’s concentrate on her ability to take an ordinary branch off her juniper tree and turn it into the most amazing shimmery addition to a boring centerpiece that you ever have seen.  That’s what I mean by crafty.

Some people can just take scraps of this, leftovers of that, add some ribbon and glitzy stuff and voila!  A lovely Christmas ornament for your pine tree.  Or there are those people who actually make Christmas gifts for family and friends.  I admire their creativity and tenacity! And then there are the items that were lovingly handmade at school or in Sunday School class by your children when they were little.  Crafts and Christmas just seem to go together.

I was thinking about that the other day when I finally finished decorating our Christmas tree. (Yep, I succumbed.  I just couldn’t leave a bare-naked tree in my living room!)  There are a lot of crafty ornaments residing in my Christmas décor boxes. 

There’s the round painted one oldest daughter made in second grade, if I remember correctly.  It hung on the mayor’s Christmas tree at City Hall in the town we lived in then.  Middle daughter made candy canes out of red and white pony beads and pipe cleaners one year with her fellow Girl Scouts.  Son constructed a baby Jesus in half a walnut shell in Sunday School way back when.

Several handmade ornaments that I purchased at craft shows or holiday bazaars also congregate in my boxes,  some of those I even managed to make myself.  Others were gifts bestowed upon me like the clear glass ball with a sketch of Jesus inside from my friend Laura (of course, I still have it hanging on my tree) or the half egg shell with a Christmas scene displayed inside of it, a gift from my mother many years ago.

Over the years, I’ve tried my hand at crafting other decorations as well, including a nutcracker wreath, a garland of felt stars with homemade buttons fashioned out of clay and baked in the oven, and who knows what else lurking in those boxes.  When I unpack these items, it brings back a lot of delightful memories – some of my mother, some of my children as they were growing up, and some of friends, now far away.

When I was a little girl, my mother belonged to a “Home Extension Group.”  A group of ladies met monthly at each other’s homes for a demonstration of home arts and a lovely lunch.  Most of these women were my mom’s age or older and I vividly remember being the only youngster at those meetings until I trotted off to school.  Even then, I would be excited to jump off the school bus and enter my home to see the ladies from home extension there and taste the yummy leftover dessert.

These women would gather to craft or learn something new in the fine art of homemaking.  Sometimes a representative from the state home extension office would visit and give a demonstration, perhaps on home canning or sewing.  I still remember the year they made large white candles shaped like snowballs for Christmas.  Whatever they were making or eating, this group of friends always seemed to enjoy their time together.

Several years ago when my family lived in the Pacific Northwest, I told this story of Mom’s home extension group to some of my friends and we decided to resurrect the concept.   A few weeks before Christmas, we met at a friend’s home, spent the morning crafting together and sipping hot coffee or tea,  then shared a tasty and delicious lunch.

That’s where my nutcracker wreath was designed.  We all convened at the craft store to choose scads of items we would hot glue to our wreaths of artificial greenery.  Festive ribbons, little nutcrackers, Christmasy birds, glittering balls, shiny strings of beads, twigs of fake holly…it looked like the Ghost of Christmas Present had thrown up all over the table!

But oh, the fun we had!  We chatted and laughed as we crafted, enjoying each other’s company so much, giving advice about the placement of tinsel tidbits, which was beneficial because the more savvy decorators among us could give direction to those of us who were craft-deficient.  Having relished our day together, we decided to continue the idea each week as we launched another Christmas craft.  For the first time, I truly understood why my mother belonged to her “home extension group” for all those many years.

It wasn’t about the finished product, although that was nice. The real joy came from time well-spent with dear friends, savoring one another’s company with laughter and merriment yet sharing burdens and sorrows as well.  It was about gathering for a lovingly home-cooked meal together as neighbors who had more in common than just the neighborhood where they lived.

Yes, it was a simpler time when my mother and those sweet ladies, whose faces I can still recall even though every one of them has left this world, convened every month for camaraderie and cake.  But those simple times can be recaptured – my friends and I did it that one special time at Christmas.  We just have to want to live a simpler life, to take time to visit those we treasure, and make memorable moments happen.

It’s Christmas.  It’s time to slow down.  Spend time with your closest friends and family.  And while you’re at it, though you may not be “crafty,” make something special together – even if it’s just lovely memories. ©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

©2021 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Wordless Wednesday: Our own little elf

©2015 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Wordless Wednesday: Christmas heirloom

©2015 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Still longing

With my new dolly in 1957

(A note from Mama:  I’m reblogging this post I wrote in December 2013, so for my long-time readers, if it sounds familiar, it is.   I find that I’m still longing for that old fashioned Christmas.  Maybe you are too.)

Maybe it’s just my middle age.  Maybe it’s the empty nest thing.  Or maybe it’s just that I have more time on my hands to spend reflecting on the past.  Whatever it is, I find myself singing the words to an old Frank Sinatra Christmas song.

“Give me an old fashioned Christmas, an old fashioned Christmas,

 Family faces, wide open spaces, covered with snow.”

This Christmas here at Mama’s Empty Nest there will be family faces.  And wide open spaces at our country home for certain.  Right now those spaces are covered with snow and hopefully we won’t just be dreaming of a white Christmas.

In my heart,  I’m longing for an old fashioned Christmas – one with less hurry and scurry.  One with deeper meaning.  One with a simpler celebration.  And I’m determined to accomplish it.  Oh, my Christmas to-do list bounces around my brain but I’m simplifying it.  I’m not scouring Pinterest for decorating ideas or cookie recipes or fancy Christmas dinner menus.

I’m sticking to the basics but even abbreviating those.  Christmas cards are signed, sealed, and delivered but this year I opted for fewer cards and a shorter Christmas note.  Decorating our home is completed but not all of the décor, just some favorites, made it out of the storage boxes.  The oven will fire up for some cookie baking but not the usual marathon, just two or three kinds instead of a huge assortment.  Simple meal preparation will follow suit.

Downsizing for a simple Christmas almost doesn’t make sense though.  This year is different than Christmases past when I squeezed in all of the preparations and scarcely had enough time to do it all.  I have more free time on my hands than usual and you would think that would entice me to really do Christmas up big.  Fancy.  Over the top.  One to remember.

But then I recall Christmas as a child.   Do I remember anything fancy?    Do exquisitely wrapped packages with expensive gifts inside come to my mind?  Fine cuisine?  A beautiful and elaborately decorated home?  Do I recollect an over the top celebration?

What I remember from childhood Christmases are simple aspects.  My father would usually bring the Christmas tree home with him one day after work.  Sometimes that wouldn’t be until shortly before Christmas and one year I remember actually decorating the tree on Christmas Eve.

After my older sisters married, they spent Christmas Eve with their in-law families so that meant my parents and I usually attended candle-light service at church to welcome the Christ child.  Before the service, my father would drive us around our area to see neighbors’ homes Christmas light displays and we would ooh and aah over those that glowed the brightest.

No fireplace existed at my childhood home, but I still hung up my stocking over the knob of the front door.  I would be so excited for Christmas morning that I could barely sleep.  When Christmas Day arrived, my stocking bulged full of goodies although not with toys, gadgets, and gizmos.  

Dumping it out, I would discover a huge juicy orange, a shiny red apple, mixed nuts in their shells, candy canes, and other Christmas candy.  And I would be delighted with the yummy treats even though they were practically the same every year.  Nestled beneath the Christmas tree, I’d find one or two specially requested simple toys – a doll, a game, or one exciting year, a beautiful blue bicycle –  just for me. 

That afternoon brought our entire family gathered together and crowded into the living room around a simple Scotch pine real tree covered in old-fashioned strings of lights with colored bulbs, metallic icicles, and the same ornaments year after year.  It wasn’t a fancy themed tree; instead a hodge-podge collection adorned that prickly-needled fir which filled the air with the pungent scent of pine.

We exchanged gifts – real honest to goodness gifts that were purchased with thoughtfulness and consideration instead of gift cards or envelopes of money.  And we laughed, and we exclaimed over our wonderful presents, and we thanked one another with smiles and hearty hugs.

My mother prepared a simple but abundant and appetizing meal displayed on the dining room table – no fancy recipes, no exquisite table centerpieces/decorations to make it look like a photo spread from a magazine.  And we bowed our heads thanking God for the most precious gift of all – His Son Jesus Christ – and for our provision of food and family.

After dinner, one of us occupied the bench at our upright piano to plunk out Christmas carols while the rest of us sang the well-known tunes over and over again.  We’d eat dessert and commence a few rousing rounds of cards or games or sometimes just putting a new jigsaw puzzle together.

A simple Christmas.  Not photo worthy because of the food, the glitz, the gifts, or the amount of money spent.   A Christmas worth remembering because of love, gratitude, and joy felt and appreciated when a family assembles to celebrate.

That’s my idea of an old-fashioned Christmas and that’s what I’m hoping for this Christmas.

“When we recall Christmas past, we usually find that the simplest things – not the great occasions – give off the greatest glow of happiness.”  ~ Bob Hope

©2013 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Opening our home and hearts

They ‘met’ over a decade ago on an online blogging circle but they really didn’t meet until recently.

My oldest daughter wrote her own blog on a now defunct site back all those years ago and she and another blogger became friends (sound familiar?).  My daughter lives here in the United States; the other young lady lives across the world. 

Over the years they transitioned from their blogs to becoming Facebook friends and kept up with each other’s lives through photos and comments.  And a very special friendship flourished.

Fast forward to 2014.  One of those lovely young women planned an adventure with her handsome boyfriend to visit the United States on a long holiday from their home in Australia.  And that’s when something took flight besides their lengthy trip via airplane.  The two toured several interesting cities here in the Northeast from New York City to Boston to Philadelphia to Washington, DC with a little side trip to Amish country in Lancaster, PA.

But they planned another special trip to a city many wouldn’t consider a tourist spot – Pittsburgh.  The reason?  To finally meet my daughter in person.  Months before, messages flew back and forth through the internet to make plans for the meeting.  Daughter and son-in-law would travel north from their home to spend an entire day with her friend and beau in our nearby city. 

They hit it off famously.  The two gentlemen had much in common, including a wacky sense of humor, and became instant friends.  The two young women cemented their friendship by conversing in person instead of via computer.

They relished an American breakfast at Pamela’s and a Pittsburgh style lunch at Primanti Brothers.  After a day-long sightseeing excursion, the four of them left the city lights behind and traveled to our country home.  Daughter wanted her new (yet old) friends to experience an evening in a typical American home and enjoy a home-cooked meal with us.

Papa and I are always happy to welcome new friends and we wanted to give the two travelers a taste of life outside of our country’s big cities and tourist spots.    Just an evening in an average American home with average everyday people like us.

Since this gathering took place the first weekend of December, we scurried to get the house Christmas ready with decorations and the tree dressed in its finery.   I planned a hearty American-style dinner with chicken and stuffing casserole, fresh green beans, baked yams with cinnamon butter, dinner rolls with a choice of our homemade strawberry or blueberry jam, and of course, apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream to top it off.

From the minute the two Aussies stepped inside our house, we loved them!  Their warmth and sweet personalities won us over immediately and we thoroughly enjoyed sharing our hospitality with these delightful young adults.   We swapped stories and relished hearing about their homeland, their lives, their work, and their customs. 

They taught us some Australian words we hadn’t heard before and we even taught our new young friends some ‘Pittsburghese’ (words like yinz and redd up and slippy that many folks in our neck of the woods use).

They graciously brought us a basket of goodies from their homeland (including Tasmania where the young lady hails from) and later when we sampled all of the lollies (candy) they were oh, so tasty. While they were here we put on our brave faces and tried the vegemite (a staple in Australia which is a dark brown food paste made from leftover brewers’ yeast extract with various vegetable and spices). 

As we spread it on crackers, they couldn’t wait to see our reactions when we tasted it.  Some of us thought it was horrible.  I actually didn’t think it was that bad.  Papa thought it was too salty and tasted like soy sauce.  We had lots of fun later when we introduced the vegemite to the rest of our family during our early Christmas.  The faces were priceless.

We introduced Hershey’s peppermint kisses – they were a big hit – and Ghirardelli chocolates to our new friends and gave them a jar of my homemade strawberry jam.

Our time seemed short even though we stayed up to 2 a.m. enjoying our company.  When our guests departed to drive back to the city for the night, I snapped the photo above as the two girls hugged goodbye.  I suspect there will be a trip to Australia planned in the future for oldest daughter and son-in-law.

It was an evening we’ll never forget filled with the things that make sweet memories and that heartwarming feeling of sharing time and our home with new friends.

Ornament from Tasmania

There’s a new ornament hanging on our Christmas tree gifted to us from our Australian friends. It’s a carved wooden, three-dimensional tree made of Tasmanian Huon Pine, a creamy yellow wood with a very distinct aroma – to me it smells like wood smoke.

And each time I look at the Christmas tree or catch a whiff of that scent, I will remember Susannah and Mat and our time together and my heart will be full. 

“Christmas is the season for kindling the fire of hospitality in the hall, the genial flame of charity in the heart.”   ~Washington Irving

©2014 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Snow memory banks

“Oh the weather outside is frightful but the fire is so delightful and since we’ve no place to go…let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!”

I’ve been under the weather in more ways than one.  Relegated to our family room’s comfy couch, I’ve been down with a nasty cold/flu bug for several days now.  Just lying around and vegetating (usually with the cat sleeping on top of my stomach or curled at my side), my brain’s been saturated with fog preventing me from taking advantage of the down time to write some new blog posts.

Nope, no creative juices to be found.  All I could manage was listening to my Pandora Christmas music station or the one on cable TV,  watching a plethora of holiday movies, and thinking about all the things I should be trying to accomplish for Christmas like gift shopping, wrapping presents,  and making a grocery shopping list. 

As I muddled through the fog that enveloped my brain, I peered out the window to  watch snowflakes flutter and fly through the air.  Snow moved into my neck of the woods and it set up housekeeping.  Often I left my perch, flung open the door, and just stood there wrapped up in my warm, tattered robe taking in the magnificent show nature performed for me.

Sometimes tiny specks of icy snow that are almost unperceivable dropped from the overcast sky.  Other times sizeable cottony fluffs floated and danced through the air on their spiral downward.  Sometimes snow fell in an almost lazy we’ve got all the time in the world way.  Other times it sped up and descended so fast and furiously it produced a white-out effect.

Snow frosts our shrubs like icing drizzled over a cake.  It buried our driveway until the only way I could ascertain where it’s located is by the reflector poles hubby placed at one edge of the drive for that purpose.  At night, our outside Christmas lights reflect through their blanket of snow and it truly does look like a winter wonderland. 

Lots of folks here complain about the snow, they complain about the cold, they complain about the messy roads.  I don’t.  I like snow.  I like the cold temperatures.  And as far as the roads go, hey, it’s winter in western Pennsylvania, what do you expect?

Of course, like the old song says, I’ve got no place to go so why not let it snow.  And it does.  It snows and it snows and it snows and I wonder will it last until Christmas?   And as it does so often, my mind reverts back to the past just as quickly as if the Ghost of Christmas Past was whisking me back there.  After all, with my achy body and profound lack of energy induced by illness, I have time on my hands to take a few mental excursions since those are the only trips I can muster. 

I remember so many of those magical white Christmases of yore.  But I also remember those out of the norm times when temperatures were spring-like and December 25 proved to be a green holiday.  But mostly, I remember snow decorating the landscape at Christmas time.

Back when our three were little tykes, I vividly remember one Christmas when we lived in the Midwest.  That year, we were not able to travel back to our home state to visit our families for the holidays.  Instead, we would celebrate our Savior’s birth alone with just our family of five.  On Christmas Eve, the kids were so wound up with excitement they could hardly contain themselves.  And that excitement turned into sheer joy when we looked outside and noticed it was snowing!

We woke up Christmas morning to a world filled with white – a virtual snow globe.  Since we had no extended family coming nor were we going anywhere, we spent a leisurely, relaxing Christmas Day in our pajamas opening gifts, exclaiming over the joy of both giving and receiving special things, and playing with our children and their new toys.  Then we all bundled up in our winter wear, piling on hats and scarves and mittens and boots and all five of us ventured outside into our winter playground to frolic in the snow.  It proved to be a special Christmas that will always remain etched in my snowy memory bank.

Snow and Christmas.  Christmas and snow.  They seem to go hand in hand in my mind.  Maybe that’s why I love snow so much.  It always reminds me of Christmas – a season of love and joy and giving…and light.  The Light of the world given to us on that special night.  What reflects light better than a covering of snow?  Last night when sleep eluded me, I noticed how bright it looked outside with the moon reflecting off the glistening snow.

And this all comes to my mind as I wander into the living room, sit quietly in the chair by the window, watching the snow swirl and twirl.  Glancing at our glittering Christmas tree,  I catch sight of an old treasured ornament hanging there.  A smiling snow man face with a black top hat that adorned my parents’ Christmas tree when I was a kid grins at me. Dating back to the late 50’s or early 60’s, somehow it managed to survive all of these years unbroken even though it’s made many moves from house to house, state to state, since I acquired it.

Mr. Snow Man looks a little worn from his many years but from his spot on our tree, he faces the window where he can see the wintry landscape outside and he smiles.  It’s as if he says, “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!”

And with that, let the heart-warming memories of happy Christmas times descend right along with the snow.  Let it snow memory after memory.  Suddenly, I don’t feel so under the weather after all.

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