Christmas, in its pure,
undefiled state, represents all that is good. It is happy children with
wide-eyed wonder, cherished memories of sacrifice and love, and an ongoing
reminder that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, DID come into the world. That is
why I love Christmas. And that is why I once dreamed of being the Christmas
Lady.
The Christmas Lady, in my long-ago, newly-wed mind, was the woman with the Christmas-lit house on the hill--the house everyone could see from a distance, and the one passersby naturally flocked to. She was the woman who made Christmas cookies, decadent fudge, and yes, fruitcake--the good kind--and delivered it to all the neighbors. She was the lady who wrote the Christmas stories no one could resist and sang the songs everyone loved.
But children, jobs, and years of LIFE later, the Christmas Lady is still reaching for the dream. She does live in a house on the hill that everyone can see, but she owns only one outdoor Christmas ornament: a large star of David which blinks above the garage nearly thirty feet from the ground.
She does make Christmas treats--the fast kind, including decadent fudge and chocolate chip cookies with festive mint chips or M&M's--but only a few of them make it to the neighbors; the Christmas Gentleman and Kids get them first.
She does write irresistable Christmas stories (see "My Christmas Articles"), and she does sing Christmas songs.
So, what's left? THE BIG STUFF. The lights that put Tim Allen's house to shame. The treats, like home-made doughnuts and German delicacies that no one seems to have time to learn how to make anymore. And the best-selling Christmas novel (stay tuned for more informationon on that one).
But you know what? The BIG STUFF are only the spices to the home-kneaded goodness that is Life. And it is that spice, this Christmas Lady dream of mine, that makes my place on the web another reason I love Christmas.
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