The Spirit of Christmas
By Jeanne Moseley
When Christmas time rolled around, my Mother was one of those cheerful
spirits who decorated anything that didn't move. As for me, well, my family
jokes that I hang a wreath on the door and call it Christmas.
While
it's true that I'm not prone to hang much mistletoe or strew garland
throughout our halls, there is a part of the holiday season that's been known
to bring true magic to my very soul.
I'd almost forgotten it was
Christmas, but when I turned the corner, I recognized that special glow coming
from a nearby yard. There, in an illumination that can only come from shiny
and sparkling lights, was Christmas.
The stunning, old home stood tall
among the rest of the neighborhood. Huge white columns supported this colonial
mansion, but on this night, it was the majesty of the white lights that caught
my eye ... and my imagination.
I stood under towering trees now
shimmering with light and felt the rays seep through my body and into my soul.
This radiance was framed by the dark night, and for just a few minutes this
old house and I saw our way through Christmases past and present.
No
doubt, generations passed through the door of this fine manor as they arrived
in first-rate carriages to celebrate the Christmas season. I'm just sure it
was here where little girls discovered dolls under the Christmas tree and
where the boys' trains once ran on tracks all through the house.
As I
peered through the window panes, my mind's eye caught a glimpse of bygone days
when this house was once filled with elegant Christmas gatherings. I could
almost hear the swooping ball gowns as they passed from one room to another,
and it was easy to imagine the swirl of a gentle fog created by candles as
they burned well into the night.
I turned and headed back into the
neighborhood that showed little or no signs of the season. All the way home, I
danced ever so softly in my mind as Karen Carpenter's voice sang in
three-quarter time, "Merry Christmas and may all your New Year's dreams come
true."
I thought myself blessed that tonight the Spirit of Christmas
found me.
Copyright ©2000 Jeanne Moseley