Tuesday, December 15, 2009
There is something magical. I can't describe it exactly. Especially this time of year. I look out driving around town and the lights they shine, the street lights, the Christmas lights, they all shimmer, glimmer, twinkle and shine. I get home, unwind for the day, let the sun set on my transgressions, my mistakes, my shortcomings, and I look out the window and smile. There it is, simple and beautiful, lights being put up by overzealous neighbors in order to bring in the holiday cheer. I dislike the season, but am grateful for each person that puts up those little light bulbs every year without fail. Every year when I drink one glass of wine too many, one beer too many, one gin and tonic too many they put up their lights and do all the holiday things that make them smile and make others hope. Every year there are white Christmas lights and wreaths upon doors, I sit looking outside the window and smile knowing there is something magical about those lights, something more, they bring me hope, they bring me joy, they bring me a sense of comfort, they bring back memories of being a child, they bring back sorrow and smiles, tears and joys. Every year those diligent people do something for everyone, even though they don't have to.