“Christmas has a special delight- as though the season is cheering you on.”– Jeanette Winterson
Dec. 16, Saturday, 11:15 am, 30 degrees, low tide, calm winds, fresh snow. About as perfect a soft December morning as they make.
(Late again– I had to put the sandwich signs advertising the cookie sale out at first light, about nine, and practice the Messiah while pedaling the bike inside. I could have fainted, but didn’t, you may be glad to know. I figure if Taylor Swift can run on a treadmill and sing her entire concert, I could manage the alto choruses. Feel free to say, “You are no Taylor Swift.”)
It was like walking in an Ansel Adams photo, with people, and dogs. And we knew them all and when we caught up to each other, we were happy to form a chatty pack.
Later, the Messiah hit all the right notes of love and joy and hope (even if the altos messed up at least one entrance. Chip didn’t notice. He said it was perfect.) The wrestling team made the statewide TV news last night, what with the epic trip to get there– and today four of our boys were in the finals. I’ll let you now how they do.
Yes, we people who have been walking in darkness are lighter.
I had to pick up the signs after the concert, and I wish I were a poet so I could tell you better how pretty it was, outside the library, with the snow gently falling. I just stood there a minute, humming, for unto us a child is born.
And I said thank you.
For all of it. Cookies. Friends and neighbors. Snow. Now. Here. But especially for the promise of peace and goodwill towards all people– and towards every little (and big) good thing, actually.
