The Santa above was a delightful surprise at my front door this week. It’s the guy next door, the one who was stringing lights on artificial trees at midnight by himself, the one I had just written about. He came over to practice his role as the lucky Santa who gets to ride in the firetruck through the community, and who later makes a shock and awe stop at the community kids’, Christmas party. Wow, what fun, kudos to you, guy next door. Wow, how small do I feel for being critical, judgmental even, regarding his handling of the season. In my defense, I’m a story teller and I move in a variety of directions, from snarky to sappy, embellishing or editing, steering my posts as I want. And I stand by my dislike for artificial trees and Christmas mania. But wow, well done, guy next door, you are a real participant.
Regardless of how we approach or handle the Christmas season, regardless of how I approach my examination of the holidays, it is a universally, sentimental time from which there is no running and hiding. The wisdom of no escape. Spread love, accept love, stave off self-pity, practice joy. My very merry, best and wonderful wishes to my lovely and loyal readers.