Christmas Itself
It's easy to get caught up in seasonal hysteria.
But then I look at our tree and remember how pleasant it was to trim it this year. I think of dear ones here and far away. I see the dog biscuit the UPS man has left on top of the packages by our door, a funny peace offering to the canine who drives him crazy.
I take my time on the cookies, the notes, the ribbons and bows.
These aren't way stations on the road to Christmas. They are Christmas itself.
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