'Tis the season to remember what matters most

We just barely got our tree up last weekend.  Peter, Henry and Paul chopped one down at a Christmas tree farm not too far down the road.  This year they picked out a white pine, the needles are soft and the smell is delicious! 

We don't own too many decorations, after so many moves it has been whittled down to just a few small boxes of ornaments and books.  Our exterior lights are minimal and since we were late in hanging them up there may have been some whispering among the community whether we celebrate Christmas, whether we are Christian.  So I sent Paul to the farm and garden shop around the corner and he picked up a fresh wreath for our front gate.  

As if it were that easy. Now whenever we pull up to our home I chuckle and say, "look kids, there's our pretty wreath, now everyone will know we are Christians".  The truth is I have learned more about being a Christian from my favorite neighbor who does not even put up a Christmas tree, she may not subscribe to organized religion but her authenticity and the size of her heart is unmatched even by the many I greet in Church hallways each Sunday.  Yes it is fun to decorate, and it is good for us to clean up and attend church on Sundays, but what matters most is what rests deep inside.     

Clara is enamored by the white pine, she's been collecting all the soft needles sniffing them and brushing them all over her face (you can see a bit of sap on her cheek).  She found some embroidery floss and made some tied bundled ornaments that she is selling for $1.00 a piece, she has requested that Santa bring her a store stand so she can sell them, that in addition to "something with a screen".  So far she hasn't sold many ornaments so she dropped the price to $.25 and Daddy bought a few.

The kids are always careful hanging their very own ornaments.  As George saw James and William's pile grow he cried, clenching his pig from 2010 and monkey from 2011 he asked, "where's all mine Mommy?"  

And on a side note I am laughing at Henry in this picture because I told him he could not decorate the tree until he put all his clothes away, he did not wan to miss out so instead of putting the clothes away upstairs he put them all on his body and went right to finding his ornaments.  

Decorating (and undecorating) the tree is an ongoing activity for the season.  I keep a basket nearby to pick up scattered ornaments.  This year we had a close call when while visiting with some friends I lost site of Charlie.  "Where's Charlie"? I sung out and soon heard him giggling beneath the tree, just as I pulled him up to me he reached out, grabbed a limb and pulled the whole tree down!  There was a crash and some shattering and instantly all the kids came running from all corners of the house.

As we cleaned up the mess we discovered the selected tree was really crooked.  Paul offered to get a new one but in the end we decided that if we twisted the weighted side towards the corner it would remain safe.  This however exposed the less desirable side of the tree, and I reminded myself, once again, I'm not in the business of putting on a show.

It is simply the company of children and kittens that I keep around this tree and to them, it is magic.

And now we are waiting for the sky to let down a bit of its own magic, "almost" William tells me.

The most magical moments for me this season so far were the ones where I've been tuned in to what is real and what matters most.  The truth is I struggle with the "Christmas Crazies", the burden and distraction of buying, ordering and even the over the top hand makings for Christmas.   I tell myself "I'm creating magic", "my children will remember this forever", "we'll have a picture perfect Christmas", but that is a lie, everything tangible about this holiday is only an illusion of what matters most.  The real gifts are the moments and feelings that cannot be wrapped with a bow and cannot even be captured in a photo, it is hard for me to give proper words, it is in the simple making of eye contact and creating heart connections.  That is what's real, that is what matters most, and it is not easy.

Living on a farm has been a gift to our family.  My best remedy for the "Christmas crazies" has been simply shutting down the computer, stepping outside for fresh air, checking into the sky and visiting the animals.

Our family is far from holding much musical talent but we make it a practice to sing together because even when it does not sound good it feels good.  We keep a hymn book in the milking room and in recent weeks the boys and I have been practicing our favorite Christmas hymns as we milk.  The song "Away in a Manger" is most poignant to sing in barn in the company of the animals.  Within those old stone walls we feel an outpouring of spirit, a daily reminder of what is real and what matters most.

It is not easy to break patterns, sometimes I question what it means to be "normal" and when it was that I jumped off that train.  Our Christmas traditions are changing, we are shifting them to align more with what matters most to us.  To allow it I have battled much within myself, but with a step outside and a drink of the sky I am back to where my heart lies, and there is much joy and freedom in following ones heart, even when it may look different from the rest of the world.