Christmas Spirit

I had hoped to get an earlier start, but by the time we managed to get out the door, in search of our tree, it was already dark and snowing. The sidewalks were covered with a heavy dusting of white and the falling snow sparkled under the glow of street lights. Everything ugly about our neighborhood faded into the shadows. With a fresh cloak of snow the city is simply beautiful. And quiet. Nature is the great equalizer. You don't need money to have the snow fall on your face, fill up your boots, and remind you that this life, the only one we have, is perfect. And so Uta and I (with Kiki tucked in her sling) set out on foot, in the dark of night, in a snowstorm, with a very special quest at hand, to find the perfect tree.

Uta wanted a tree exactly the same size as himself. Papa H was working late and could not help with the hauling. I of course had the baby to hold. So I told Uta he could have any tree he liked, as long as he could carry it home by himself. Backed by a month and a half of karate training, Uta felt powerful and strong, and eagerly accepted my terms.

It was love at first sight, from across the street, in the dark. "That's the one!" Which one? Where? As soon as the crosswalk light changed Uta made a beeline for it, greeting the poor thing in a hug that nearly took down the whole lineup of trees. The lady from the shop came out to help us. She complimented Uta on his fine selection and told me the price.

Uta carted the tree back, five long blocks, on his shoulder, without complaint, stopping now and then to switch sides and catch his breath. He sang christmas carols all the way, mixing up the words and melodies, but belting out a christmas spirit that could stir the hearts of any and all, even the toughest of Scrooges. Even me. At one point Uta turned to me and declared, in all earnestness, "It really is the most wonderful time of the year." At that moment I felt just like the grinch did at the end of the movie when his heart grew three sizes bigger.

"He puzzled and puzzled till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas... perhaps... means a little bit more!

I could rant for hours about all that I wish was different in my life. Its a no good 'poor me' soundtrack that is causing worry lines to collect on my brow and muscle aches to dig deep into my shoulders. And yet for my children, the very same life that we share is rich and abundant. How can that be? This home that we share, the one that never measures up for me, is the home that will hold the most magical of memories for them. They don't need a snowstorm to see the perfection, they wake up happy and naturally delight in what comes. Our days are exactly the same and yet our experience is totally different. This is their childhood! And it is a really good one. They are surrounded by love. And though I manage to forget it most of the time, I am too.