Brand New

Good morning, and Merry Christmas. It's quiet here, with our family scattered and likely still asleep in their own homes. Even the cats are still asleep. Well, except for the one who hurried into the office ahead of me and perched on my desk like she belonged there.

This is the day I reserve for myself in the Window Holidays Project. I love the Project, that some authors come every year and that some visitors come every day. I get the chance to create graphics, thinking each year I'll get better at it. I miss the writers who don't return, but am delighted when someone new comes. I love hearing their traditions, reading about the celebration of their faith, laughing at their not-perfect-Christmas stories.

In short--or not so short--I love Christmas, probably for all the right and all the wrong reasons. I love celebrating Jesus's birth and the fellowship that comes with that. I love the old movies but not many of the new ones. The new ones feel like either contrived attempts at sentiment or let's see how many people and traditions we can make fun of in a two-hour period. I love the songs of the season, but much prefer Bing Crosby to Mariah Carey, Mary, Did You Know? to Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer, and old carols to nearly anything else.

As our kids grew up, Christmas meant one package on Christmas Eve--nearly always new pajamas--visiting grandparents and sharing the days with extended family. Dirty Santa gifts--I wonder if my brother still has the red dress he got that year. The year Kari and Jim gave everyone plastic guns that shot ping pong balls, and we had the most hilarious half hour any family's ever seen. Mari, at seven, declaring she "...had balls and wasn't afraid to use them."

"Find the spot where love exists. And share it." - Ramona Grigg

When I saw that quote in Ramona's essay in her Constant Commoner column, my thoughts went to the crowded living room with ping pong balls flying through the air like light, drunken hailstones. The room was as full of love as it's ever been and we shared it. Oh, we did.

I still think of the kids sitting on the stairs in their new pajamas, waiting for permission to enter the magic place our living room had become overnight. Bicycle Christmases. Telephone and TV Christmases. Christmases when they were at college and things were the same when they were home. Except that they weren't. The love was still there, but it was hurried. And worried. With lonely and fraying parts.

Years like this one, which I would not classify as a good one no matter how hard I tried to fool myself, still had its...I can't think of the word I want, so let's say intervals. Times of hope. Times of strength and compassion shown by high school kids in so many situations. Times of spiritual joy.

In this month alone, my granddaughter married the man she loves. The Window Holidays Project made me happy every day, even when I scheduled two people at one time--thanks, Nancy Fraser, for your patience. Laughter-laden lunches with friends, shopping with daughters and one handsome grandboy even though I tired out way too soon, glasses of Evan Williams Eggnog and many, many pieces of candy.

I've written about moments before, and how they can make getting through the days the enriching times we want them to be. Intervals--I still can't think of the word I'm looking for--are the same way. They are the light, joy, and yes-we-can in difficult years.

New Year's Day is when everything is supposed to be brand new. New beginnings, weight loss plans, gym memberships, financial goals, fresh calendar pages. I get that. I like it.

But today, this day of celebration and giving and intervals of unbelievable kindness and

generosity--this is the day of brand new for me. It is bolstered by memories of ping pong balls and a magic room full of family, of a quiet Christmas Eve service lit by the glow of candles. It is the first day of Hanukkah with latkes that, according to my friend Jennifer Wilck, make the whole house smell like "love and onions and oil" when they are cooked.

I use the term My heart is full probably more often than I should, but I'm okay with that. A full heart is a joyous interval. It makes you feel brand new.

Have a wonderful Christmas and a great week. Be nice to somebody.