-when magic's in the air.
The Story of the Holly Sprig
- Arthur Upson, St. Nicholas Magazine,
c. 1907, Words to a song)
"I'd be the shiniest green,"
Wished once a sprig of holly,
"That e'er at Yule was seen,
And deck some banquet jolly!"
"I'd be the cheeriest red,"
Wished once the holly-berry,
"That e'er at board rich spread
Helped make the feasters merry!"
The life within them heard
Down dark and silent courses,
For each wish is a word
To those fair-hidden sources.
All Summer in the wood
While they were riper growing,
The deep roots understood
And helped without their knowing.
In a little market stall
At Yule the sprig lay waiting,
For fine folk one and all
Passed by that open grating.
The Eve of Christmas Day
It had been passed by many,
When one turned not away
And bought it for a penny.
Hers was a home of care
Which not a wreath made jolly;
The only Christmas there
Was that sweet sprig of holly.
"Oh, this is better far
Than banquet!" thought the berry;
The leaves glowed like a star
And made the cottage merry!
My Christmas Letter
Throwing cares away for even a day would be delightful, but this phenomenon of sweet innocence is reserved solely for children and pets that are deeply loved. My own personal world orbits around me warmed by my happiness or cooled in my despair. It is nurtured by my attitude; whether it is uplifting or downtrodden, positive or oppressive.
My household reflects the heart of me. It is the measure of who I am. I want it to shine outward as a thousand burning suns and to glow within as a new moon starry night. I persevere on my journey to create a quality of existence that soars to the heavens for each gift of life that enters in. It's not a passage to be taken lightly.
As a child I had others to protect me, but as an adult I am the protector, and invincibility has never found its place by my side. I stumble, I fall down, and I get back up and move on. I've learned that life is not forged for the faint of heart, for it thrives on the backs of those who take chances.
I feel nostalgic this holiday season, as I sit at work reflecting on whatever drifts into my thoughts. It's hard to quiet my soul and patiently wait for the minute and hour hand to get unstuck and fly around to that 4:30 mark and freedom; freedom to go home and fry up breakfast for dinner, and remove the clutter to make way for all that glitzy holiday menagerie of decorations.
Christmas is...well it's Christmas; but each of those 24 days leading up to that 25th day we all celebrate in so many different ways, well...they're all simply magical.
Merry Christmas and love this holiday season!
Yvonne and Vic
Our feline trio: Zoe, Andee, and Lacey
and
A dog named Dustin
Merry Christmas to you!
ReplyDeleteI love breakfast for dinner.
I am often introspective myself, Yvonne. I like your Christmas letter and I feel the same way about work, just watching the clock until it is time to go home. Only 1 more Monday after today then a 4 day weekend the week after. Color me excited.
ReplyDeleteThe vintage kewpies image is just adorable!
ReplyDeleteVisiting from Best Posts of the Week.
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