“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”
― Leonard Cohen
Yesterday was a hard day. And I have been having some tech issues, so I wrote this– as part of my walking every day challenge– and then I couldn’t send it, and that added to my woes, which were what I would call seasonal affected tears. It’s Christmas, and it’s bound to happen. I dusted behind the TV (yuck) and washed the dog beds, and that helped. Washing the slipcover on the couch may have been a mistake, since it reminded me of my dad, Papa Bob. It still has the rips in the cushions from his shoes, which he never took off. I swore I’d buy a new couch when he didn’t need it anymore. That was two years ago.
Anyway, this picture was yesterday morning a beautiful day– not a sad morning at all– for the record. Beth and I walked at 8:50 am. It was Monday (of course) Dec 18 and colder, but still not too bad, at 30 degrees. There was a north wind and sunshine. Beth said Neal told her this morning that the northern lights were great last night. He had pictures to prove it.
“Why didn’t he call?”
“He didn’t want to wake us up. I told him to next time.”
“And call me, too. We were asleep by nine.”
Sunrise, as we lurch toward the solstice was at almost nine, and the sun ducked behind the mountain at about 12:45. Just after lunch, or what would have been lunch if I hadn’t been to a Christmas coffee with friends and eaten two pieces of cake and some spiced nuts, and a tangerine.
It’s a long twilight though, it won’t be dark until about 4, and the sun, while it lasted, was very welcome. I walked the dogs again, to clear my head. To get some vitamin D. To snuffle in private.
What I want to tell you is this:
The Holly Jolly Follies were great. Santa was the emcee, and he and the house band with Lex, Shannon, Nate and Maddox kept the show moving. The theater was full too, and all that good cheer can make a person sentimental. There were many wonderful acts– as Chip said the next morning, “One thing is for sure, Haines has a lot of talent.”
But my favorite part, was when Cowboy Lex, the guitarist from the band, knelt down to keep a pre-schooler that looked to be about two or three, in his red checked big-boy shirt and jeans, from falling off the stage while his mom led the Chilkat Valley Pre-Schoolers in Jingle Bells. Lex kept one arm around the little guy and entertained him, quietly with the least distraction possible.(I have a couple of grandchildren about this size, so I know that a two-year old can go off at any second.) First, Lex used his hat (with lights on the brim) and then he retrieved the jingle bell the toddler dropped. The little boy smiled and dropped it again ( a game!)– and again, and pretty soon the baby was giving it a longer toss, and the bell landed by Maddox down in the pit who lobbed it back with a “shush” —and there your go. Smile, toss, shush– The unrehearsed skit was the sweetest thing I have ever seen on a stage, anywhere. Spontaneous kindness is rare, and yet a couple hundred people witnessed it. I won’t say it’s a Christmas miracle. But I will say it made me kind of teary all evening, the next morning, and for the rest of the following day.
Good tears.
The ones that make me remember my own toddlers, and my dad and how he cared for us (or must have, I don’t remember everything but I loved him and he was kind. I must have felt it at that age?)– I cried for all the little children everywhere who could use a Lex and a Maddox or you and me– to pay attention, see what they need, and keep them safe and entertained– and to remind us how to love one another better.
Is this why Jesus came as a baby?
