the magic of Christmas...

Reading childhood memories of Christmas on blogs made me think about my own. I always think of Christmas as a magical time. The whole holiday season seemed full to the brim with something only a child can feel... something in the air that was different from any other time of the year. 

Maybe it was a combination of the wonder of the birth of Christ as well as the possibility of Santa and his reindeer flying through the night delivering toys. When I think back, I realize it was more than that... it was a feeling of love and goodwill. It permeated the air... a season of giving (and yes - getting too - but that was alright as it was done out of love and caring). 

I still believe in the magic of Christmas. It's not quite the same as when I was a child. Now trying to feel that magic doesn't come as easy as it did back then. We grow up. We realize that Christmas is not only love, but hard work. I want my children and grandchildren to feel the magic... and I hope they do. It's hard to know. 

I wrote my oldest grand daughter a letter once concerning this (years ago). She believed in Santa and Elf on the Shelf way beyond some of her friends. And I worried when she did discover how things were done, she would lose faith (in the magic of Christmas ... and other things).

This was my letter:

Dear B---,

First of all, I want you to know that Grandma believes in magic...  all kinds of magic.  There is magic in a mother's love, there is magic in a baby's smile.  I know you've seen a butterfly, but have you ever had one light on your arm?  To me, that's magic.  It's in the moment.  Life is full of 'magic moments'... if you let yourself be aware of them.  It's a feeling like no other... and I can't explain it.  But you certainly know when it happens.

But you have to believe.  If you believe, it exists for you.  If you don't, then it doesn't.  Like everything else in life, it's your choice.  You can choose to believe or not believe.  But let me tell you, life is much more fun when you believe.

When I went to Ireland, I picked a flower in the fairy garden outside of Blarney Castle... and I left a penny for the fairies there.  And I believe there are fairies there... even though I couldn't see them. 

I believe it as much as I believe that there's a God watching over us throughout our lives... and beyond.  I can't see Him.  That doesn't matter.  I can feel Him.  And the fact that I chose to believe is all that matters.

I also believe that my mom and dad are still with me... as well as my brother and sister and any other family members that I loved and loved me.  They live in my heart and in my memories, sure... but their spirits are always close to me because I chose for them to be. 

Now... about Christmas.  I really believe in the magic of Christmas... and always have.  I can feel the magic in the air.  Can't you? When I was little, I thought I could sometimes get a glimpse of Santa's sleigh high in the sky on Christmas Eve.  Sometimes I thought I could hear the bells of the reindeer.

As I got older, I found out (by accident mind you...) that Mom and Dad bought the toys (or at least most) that I found under the tree Christmas morning.  It didn't bother me.  I knew the legend of Santa Claus.  I knew that he really did exist... here on this earth at one time... and still lives in spirit now.  The fact that grownups and parents continued his legend to help to keep the magic alive was fine with me.  I loved the magic... and still do.

And when it comes to Santa's elves...or any elves... yes, I believe in them too. Are they "real"?  Depends on what you call "real"?  They're magic... not real like you and me.  There are many many things in this world that we cannot see or understand. Sometimes we have to look "inside" ourselves to know the truth.

So if I'm ever asked the question, "Is there really a Santa Claus?"  My answer will be, "Yes, of course there's a Santa Claus. He may not be the one who buys your Christmas toys... but that doesn't mean that he didn't or doesn't exist.  He exists in our hearts and he always will as long as people like myself believe."

So I guess what I want to say here, B---, is that as you grow older and become aware that Christmas magic, Santa Claus, and Christmas Elves may not exist in the way your child's mind imagined, they do still exist... in your heart...  if you choose to continue to believe. 

Love, Grandma

Sunday mornings



Jack

Sunday morning here.  I really like Sunday mornings... not sure why. It could be that it's the one morning in the week that I don't have to do anything.  You would think that now that we're retired every morning would be like that, wouldn't you? But even though 'the job' is no longer looming,  there are things that still need doing, errands to run, projects to get done, etc.  And since we're both 'morning people', we tend to try to get it done early... leaving the afternoon for that 'coverted nap' or possibly just sitting with a book and a cup of hot tea. It's taken me 66 years to have the time and freedom to do this and I'll defend my right to do this to the death (physically and literally). Weird, huh? I wonder if others feel this way?  Or is it just me?

Some Sunday mornings we go for breakfast, but since we were out with friends last night, we won't do this today. Meeting old friends that one hasn't seen in a while is always fun.  It's odd, we've all grown older and a little grayer but things fall in place like they always did, and it's like no time has passed at all. Magic.

BTW, I do believe in magic.  It's one of those things that make me me.  And even though I can't explain it,  I know it exists (or maybe I should say that it exists if you choose to believe). People get so caught up with semantics.  For me it's that feeling you get when you were a child on Christmas Eve (you could feel the magic in the air), or when you saw your baby smile for the first time...    it's those moments where the universe shifts... and nothing is ever the same again. 

Well, this can't be long today as I need to do some cooking a little later. We're grilling tonight and I promised to make some bread pudding with whiskey sauce for dessert.




Cats helping me get things together