The cold has come earlier this year to my sweet little Mexican town. And after our seemingly thousand degree summer, the low sixties does nothing less than chill me to the bone. My thin nightgown, the same one that seemed like wool in the summertime is suddenly as useless as a single layer of Kleenex. My toes are little ice cubes. And forget my nighttime shower ritual. I need all the heat I can get. Maybe that’s why I got out the comforter tonight. OoOo…can’t wait. Silly girl, you say. But its not just because I like to be warm. Oh, no. It’s much, much more than that. (Here, come closer, let me whisper the truth into your ear.) You see, with comforters come cold faces and toasty warm bodies, one of the juiciest ways to dream. And with December so near, I’m afraid it’s inevitable. For me, anyway. Dreaming in December always seems to take me to the same magical, dreamy-eyed place. A place I look forward to each and every year. Can you guess? Yep, it's Christmas. Christmas, Christmas, Christmas. Like I said, OoOo….can’t wait.
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“Have you ever seen Santa Claus,” I asked my mom in the parking lot as we walked into Safeway, hand in hand. “I mean, the real one?” It was dark. I could already see the moon. But in Washington State that just meant after five o’clock.
“I don’t think so. Maybe once when I was a very little girl, but I was never very sure. There wasn’t anyone around to confirm it.” She shrugged, playing along like she always did, careful to side step my delicately tended imagination, the garden of my youth. And especially near Christmas time.
Just then I looked up into the sky and right there in front of the twinkling stars, I saw something moving. “Mom! Look! It’s Santa! There's Santa!” A family friend who was walking with us dared to roll his eyes, to chuckle to my mother as if I wouldn’t notice. My mother squeezed my hand. I had noticed and she knew it.
“Where, honey? Show me!” Her eyes eager, caring, trying as best she could to water my imagination.
But it was too late. Santa was gone. Or rather, the wonder-filled bubble I was blowing was popped. Popped by a man who didn’t know the gift my mother was giving me. Popped by a man who didn’t remember the magic of a child’s imagination. Popped by a man who’s life never knew enchantment as an adult and sadly, never would.
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My Wednesday Wish for You?
To check in with yourSelf this first week of December and, if need be, readjust your attitude toward Christmas. It may be one of the coldest times of the year but perhaps like me, your dreams will start to come alive. It may be a time when you feel overwhelmed or even depressed by all the shopping and buying and superficial yearnings that empty your pockets dry, among other things, no doubt. But perhaps, like the disenchanted man of my childhood, maybe you too, have forgotten what Christmas is really all about. Maybe you accidentally forgot the most important stuff. But don't worry. We all have at some point in our lives. You’re human, after all. And anyway, they’re never far away. None of the best things are. They always live inside of us, waiting for their turn to be reached for and cherished again. So how? How do you get back to not just seeing but feeling the magic of the season with childlike wonder again? It's simple. You give. You give of yourSelf, your talents, your love, your heart. That, is my wish for you as we begin to move closer to the holidays...to remember the magic of Christmas.
(bonus video below)