Outside, the trees are tied, the bushes wrapped, the wood is covered and the summer toys have been put away. Inside, bread is baking, the fire is warm and crackly, the Christmas tree lights are shining and my dog, Summit, is snoring loudly. The air is crisp, the wind is blowing and it is the first night in a good while that stars are not bright in the sky. Snow tonight? Yes, I think so. Winter is on its way.
Recently, I tried to explain what snow was like to my friend, Julienne. How it crunches when you walk on it, that you can sink down into it or slide on top of it. How it can be wet and dry and hard and soft and oh, so very cold. How each flake is different, tiny yet abundant. How it surrounds you and blankets you and the world seems beautiful, quiet and still. How you can pick it up and eat it or pack it into a ball and throw it or simply fall right into it. I could not do its wonders justice.
I was not pleased to learn I would be sharing a room with her for a week, a stranger from a far away land. She explained to me how she had lost a child to uncontrollable diarrhea, another to malaria and a husband to cancer; and of the three young children she has adopted and her sadness that her son may not be able to come home for Christmas. (Travel is dangerous and expensive.) My story was of no less interest to her. We gave each other a gift that week, one of sharing, compassion, friendship and laughter and my life will be richer because of it. For she is wise in ways so different from me through experiences I cannot fully comprehend.
What I carry in my heart this season is the gift of friendship that goes in both directions, the gift of snow that brings fun and joy, the gift of new experiences (desired and not) that enable depth and compassion and the gift of Jesus. And I think, if only to me, the presents that I have wrapped tonight (with rather excessive bows) carry more meaning this year. I am blessed and thankful.
Merry Christmas, enjoy this winter and goodnight.
