Merry Christmas!

I have been mentally preparing myself for another snowless, temperate, un-Christmaslike Christmas again this year. It wasn't easy last year preparing gifts and putting up a Christmas tree. It felt odd and forced. Beside the fact that it was 70 degrees, we hadn't sung in a choir (as we had every season for the previous 5 years), and I wasn't running from performance to holiday activity to performance (as I've grown to love). I just didn't feel Christmas-y.

Jumping forward to early this week, I opened my mailbox to find a shiny white and green envelope with familiar handwriting addressed to the husband and me. As I slipped my finger inside to break the seal, I immediately caught sight of the glitter and shiny green envelope interior. I giggled all the way to my front door.

A Christmas Card.
Inside was a generous, early Christmas gift from my parents: the equivalent of airplane tickets to Salt Lake City. We get to have a snowy, cold Christmas after all!

It's silly really. People travel home for Christmas all the time. But words can't express my excitement and the warmth in my heart as I imagine sitting quietly in my parents' warm living room, entranced by the slow-fading lights on the tree, listening to my dad play endless Christmas arrangements on the piano.

That's Peace on Earth to me. I don't care about opening presents. I don't care about grand holiday dinners. Christmas to me is feeling cozy in a warm house when there's a snow storm outside. Christmas to me is music concerts, performances and endless MoTab arrangements. Christmas is being with people I love. Christmas is being home. (And writing that spontaneously drew tears to my eyes.)

Though, I have to get through two whole holidays first...