December 25, 2007

On this Christmas morning, I did my usual 30-minute pre-dawn walk up and down the steep hill beside my apartment, and the street was almost entirely deserted. All the houses seemed asleep in the moonlight of this special morning, and only an occasional car passed in the darkness. The large white moon, seemingly all by itself in the sky, made a lovely light for me as I paced up and down the hill. I had spent a festive Christmas Eve with dear friends, and so it seemed fitting to spend this early morning by myself with just my thoughts. It was a hushed and contemplative walk. I exercised my legs and heart, and also, in a quiet way, my spirit.

Later, I drove up to enjoy Christmas Day with my grandchildren and their families. Jaimie and Jessy and little Noah and Ava Elizabeth were our cheerful hosts for the celebration, and we all enjoyed the feeling of abundant friendship as we ate, laughed, opened presents, and hugged. Kaylee was a beautiful princess in her red Nutcracker skirt, and 19-month-old Josh tumbled here and there among his aunts, uncles, and cousins. I felt thoroughly grateful all day -- though I must admit that my happiness was diminished a bit by the absence of my son Matt and his wife (home sick with the flu), and also of one other very special person.