“Feliz Navidad!”

deborah's christmas blog

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, around here “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.” The “O Christmas Tree” is lighted, packages are wrapped in “Pretty Paper,” and I admit there’s been some “Kissing by the Mistletoe.”

At every store, you’ll find a Salvation Army Santa ringing those “Silver Bells.” Strangers greet each other with “Happy Holidays,” while the kiddos sing “Jingle Bells” for the 248th time and build “Frosty the Snowman” in their front yard. It truly is “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.”

I hope your loved ones will be “Home for the Holidays.” I phoned my daughter to say “Please Come Home for Christmas” so it won’t be a “Blue Christmas” at the Epperson’s house. 

I’m wishing for a “White Christmas.” Our hike to the mailbox last evening was more “Ice Skating at Night,” than walking in a “Winter Wonderland.” I know the skiers in my family (of which I am not one) are chanting “Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow.” I’d rather stay in with a cup of cocoa and enjoy “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire.”

And although we’re all excited because “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” we can’t forget the reason for the season. On that “Silent Night,” and “The First Noel,” the “Star of the East” shone over the stable while “The Friendly Beasts” passed the word that “There’s a New Kid in Town” and his name is “Emmanuel.” I’d like to ask the Virgin Mother, “Mary Did You Know” “What Child Is This” sleeping “Away in the Manger” on this “O Holy Night?” 

How will you and your friends and family celebrate the season? Going for a “Sleigh Ride” or going “Caroling Caroling?” Are perhaps you have plans to be “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree.” Whatever you do, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”

But please remember “Baby, it’s Cold Outside.” So, stay safe and warm. I heard that last year “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” 

From our family to yours, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”

 

eppersonBW

Deborah Epperson

EPPERSON - SHADOWS

250,000 small

Reflections on Snow

By M. F. Erler

Snow…I’ve lived in places that get a lot of it.  Like Ashton, Idaho–where about four feet on the level was an average winter.  Michigan, where lake effect could dump a couple of feet in a couple of hours.  And I will admit I never liked driving in it, especially after I slid off Montana Highway 37 one day between Rexford and Eureka.

But now, I find myself wishing for it. No, I’m not a skier, though there has been some cross-country skiing in the past.  Maybe it’s because I’m retired…

I have two theories on this.  My current one is I’m reverting to my childhood.  I grew up in southern Arkansas (until I turned 11).  I never saw snow until I was past five years old.  It was amazing!  I remember running out to touch and being surprised that it was cold.  Maybe I was expecting that cottony stuff they put in the store windows to look like snow.

It never snowed at Christmas in Arkansas, but my two younger brothers and I always secretly wished for it.  Dad helped this along by playing his old 78-rpm Bing Crosby record every Christmas Eve.  It was “White Christmas” of course.  white christmas

When we moved to northern Illinois in 1963, I had my first actual white Christmas, and the house we were renting even had some old sleds in the garage.  What fun we had!  I guess this is my current state of mind–looking for ways to find joy in life, as the years fly past me.  Being back in Montana and seeing the snow-covered mountains is wonderful.  And I am thankful for the old memories, too. 

 

Listen to the Children

Christmas Tree Farm Girl ImageReports of war and terror pour from the television as I rush to start the day. Despite a world now darken by apprehension, the anchorman urges us to return to normal life. And so I try.

Grabbing lunches, backpacks, and keys, the kids and I race through an icy rain for the safety of the car. Heading up the long driveway, I keep one hand on the wheel, while the other tries to buckle a seatbelt that shrinks with each passing birthday.

Return to normal life? How? My so-called normal life included guarantees, extended warranties and a comfortable, but perhaps naïve, sense of security. Where do I look for that now?

The to-do list inside my head grows longer. Buy stamps, pick-up dry cleaning, make bank deposit. Did I unplug the curling iron? I need a distraction so I turn on the radio. Disease, hunger, more fighting, the announcer reports. I turn off the radio, lock the car doors, and return to my mental list, which now includes thinking up a new reason for being late.

”There’s a rainbow.” A small voice from the back seat interrupts my mental whining.

“What is it?” I ask as my eyes dart from the clock to the speedometer.

“There’s a rainbow,” my son repeats. “Look at the rainbow, Mom.”

“I can’t. I’m driving.” But I glance back anyway. “I don’t see a rainbow, Clayton, just gray clouds.”

“Look again, Mom. Look where I’m pointing.”

As I slow to make a turn, I peek over my right shoulder. A pale band of violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, and red curves against the ashen sky, hues almost lost in heaven’s bleakness. I pull into the school driveway and the children get out.

“Don’t forget to look for the rainbow,” Clayton yells as he runs toward the playground.

Back at the intersection, I wait my turn to join the hurried masses. Then I see it. A multicolored ribbon stitched into the sky. I take my place in the metal caravan. My pace slows so I can admire the rainbow a little longer. The rainbow—a sign that the world will go on.

In times, battles will be won, work will get finished, and wounds will heal. And our nation will continue to be a beacon for liberty and a refugee for huddled masses yearning to breathe free for as long as there are rainbows . . . and children to point them out.

This Christmas, take time to look for the rainbows, the twinkle in the stars, and the angels (snow and otherwise) that touch our daily lives with their smiles, words of encouragement, and hugs-a-plenty. And please take time to say a special prayer for all the children in harm’s way, and a heartfelt “Thank you,” for the blessings our children and grandchildren bring us every day.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyeux Noël, Feliz Navidad and a Wonderful New Year!

Thanks for stopping by,

Deborah                                                                                                              250,000 small

Christmas at Nathan's mom's house  1992

Christmas at Nathan’s mom’s house 1992

Christmas Songs Say It All

Christmas at Nathan's mom's house  1992

Christmas at Nathan’s mom’s house 1992

“Feliz Navidad!”

Well, around here “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.” The “O Christmas Tree” is lighted, packages are wrapped in “Pretty Paper,” and I admit there’s been some “Kissing By the Mistletoe.”

At every store, the “Silver Bells” of the Salvation Army Santa is ringing. Strangers greet each other with “Happy Holidays,” while the kiddos sing “Jingle Bells” for the 248th time. It truly is “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.”

I hope your loved ones will be “Home for the Holidays.” I phoned my daughter to say “Please Come Home for Christmas” so it won’t be a “Blue Christmas” at the Epperson’s house.

I’m wishing for a “White Christmas.” Our hike to the mailbox last evening was more “Ice Skating at Night,” than walking in a “Winter Wonderland.” I know the skiers in my family (of which I am not one) are chanting “Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow.” I’d rather stay in with a cup of cocoa and enjoy “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire.”

And although we’re all excited because “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” we can’t forget the reason for the season. On that “Silent Night,” and “The First Noel,” the “Star of the East” shone over the stable while “The Friendly Beasts” passed the word that “There’s a New Kid in Town” and his name is “Emmanuel.” I’d like to ask the Virgin Mother, “Mary Did You Know” “What Child Is This” sleeping “Away in the Manger” on this “O Holy Night?”

How will you and your friends and family celebrate the season? Going for a “Sleigh Ride” or going “Caroling Caroling?” Or perhaps you have plans to be “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree.” Whatever you do, stay warm and safe. I heard last year that “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer.”

Thanks for stopping by and y’all “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”

Deborah

Breaking TWIG Available in ebook, paperback, and now audiobook

Breaking TWIG
Available in ebook, paperback, and now audiobook

 

 

Come Peacefully to Your Senses

 

    Image

KAREN WILLS 

As most people know, the timing of our Judeo/Christian holidays is rooted in pagan celebration of the winter solstice. Whatever our spiritual observances, we also crave sensual comforts to carry us through the year’s darkest days.

Regardless of the time of year, certain authors have encouraged us to, as Kathleen Tessaro, author of The Perfume Collector puts it, “Come to our senses.” Probably the most original and prolific of these writers was Marcel Proust, who has a whole syndrome named after him, “The Proustian Effect.” According to ScentAir MENA, “It’s what happens in your brain when a smell unleashes a flood of memories, taking you back to a particular time and place.” Proust may have been the first to link smell to memory, but Tessaro adds to this in her book. She tells us that scent brings us back to the very emotion we felt on the occasion that led to the memory itself. We don’t just remember the experience. We relive the exact emotion.

The holidays for me include the scent of pine from a freshly cut Christmas tree, and of the hot wax from candles we held in our hands at Christmas Eve Church services. Then the rich aroma of wassail we used to make and serve hot on New Year’s Eve. It’s also the fresh flannel smell of the new Lanz nightgown Mom and Dad brought me every Christmas. These are the fragrant reminders of security and fun. They bring me back to family traditions. And to a time when we didn’t have to wish for peace on earth.

It was in the air around us. All we had to do was breathe it in.