December 11, 2009 - 9:14 P.M.
It’s been a long week.
But I loved it anyhow. Despite the frustrations and everything which comes from my chosen line of work.
Tonight I made my way home to a house which was cold and empty; however, it was light out still. A Subdued glow came from my kitchen, and outside countless neighbors sledded down the hills on toboggans and hurled snowballs.
I ignited the lights on the tree, and started to play some instrumental Christmas music. The candles were lit, and I turned up the thermostat. Soon the house became a warm, festooned place where I found myself drawing up my laptop and composing my thoughts.
What is it about these simple comforts of home which bring such peace and security?
While the cold rages outside, I find myself thinking of the countless blessings I’ve come to enjoy in my life. Granted—not all of them have been wonderful; however, they’ve been blessings all the same.
When I arrived at work this morning, my classroom was a dark and cold place as well. I ignited the varied lamps I’d brought, as well as the four-foot artificial tree flocked with snow and ashen lights. As I turned on that instrumental Christmas music, my classroom came to life. I was thinking that before I arrived, it was just a cold, hollow place—I thought of those cozy bookstores, or small shops we love to go to, and how that first person enters into that cold, lifeless place…and from there, it suddenly comes to life—somebody has to be the first.
By the time my students had arrived, it was warm—the cold edge was gone, and it felt like home. The light and feeling therein was welcoming. It was ready.
I had a Christmas earlier this year—I’d called it, “Christmas in September.” I said I’d post photos…or nearly enough. I didn’t. This doesn’t mean that I didn’t take any…only that I didn’t post any.
It’s amazing to me how the little things can escape from us, and we suddenly find ourselves running ragged and trying to catch up on all of our varied good intentions. Seems that there is always something more waiting in the wings for our attention to which we continually put off.
I had Peeps. They were frosted Christmas figures. They were from last year. I challenged my friend’s son, “Joey” to eat them. I’d even bribed him with a buck or two. I then told him I’d race him…
The Peeps were awful. The frosting had hardened. The marshmallow was crystallized sugar. The frosting cut into my gums and tasted like sweetened chalk.
I hate Peeps.
There is hamburger in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator waiting to be made into spaghetti sauce with basil and oregano. The Mint Bites on the kitchen counter are waiting to be consumed. Good friends will be here before I know it. But tonight I just wanted to speak out into that great space.
Why?
I cannot say, really. Only that tonight is going to be a great night. But only because I choose to make it so.
