There are several things I have inherited from my mother. Like the fact that when I smile, my little eyes turn into two little half moons. When me and sis and Mom smile in a picture, it’s just like six little half moons in a row.
But that’s not what I’m talking about here.
I’m talking about a love of Christmas.
I love that people LOVE Christmas. You hear humbugs all the time complaining about the commercialism, or the overplayed music, or the hassle in the stores, etc., but it’s obvious that people just love it. Or it would stop. It’s evidenced by the classiest displays of Christmas lights in people’s front yards to the tackiest, trashiest puke of all things Christmas on some redneck lawns. And it doesn’t matter because people love it and they’re just putting it out there for others to enjoy.
seeing family * the cooking * the baking * the Christmas music * the candles * the snow angels * the school plays * concerts * friends * the shopping * the secrets * the storefront window displays * the Nutcracker * the wrapping paper * fires in the fireplace * the snowflakes * the ribbons * the bows * the cozy homes * the ornaments * the live nativities * the lights * the Christmas quilts * Handel’s Messiah * the garlands * the stockings * the quaint churches * the snowmen * the pine tree smell * the surprise cookies on your doorstep * the red cheeks * the candies * the cookies * the frozen eyelashes * the wet hats * gloves * the tree skirts * the wreaths * the tree lights * the candles in windows * the temple lights * the open windows with trees shining through.
And I love that people “bustle” at Christmas. People don’t bustle unless it’s Christmas.