Yesterday was Thanksgiving in the US... you all know that, of course. But as evening came on, I was feeling a bit sorry for myself way over here in Europe. I had decided that I would decorate my own house for Christmas in an effort to forget that my Americans were celebrating without me, and so I began... and then it snowed.
My heart was not light. It was neither cheerful nor in the holiday mood (ask my kids!). But the unexpected did happen as the snow fell gently but determined from a dark night sky ... and that was love. A bit of love that I did not deserve in my grumpy state.
I had just set up the miniature Christmas town when my nearly teenaged son plopped down in our child-sized rocking chair to admire it. "Mom...this is really cute." He wrapped his arm around me. "Maybe we could find a way to light up the little houses!"
We sat that way for at least fifteen minutes, until we heard giggling from outside on the balcony. My eldest daughter was having her evening tea outside in the falling snow, wrapped up in scarves and the knitted blanket I had made for her, Christmas music plugged into her ears. She had been watching us stare at the Christmas village... "It's snowing!" And indeed, it was.
This morning, I woke up to postcard beauty.
Walked the little girls to school...and whispered a simple prayer.
Thank you for holding me.