Gift of the Moment

[(.W.10.28.9.) It's a snowy evening in late December. Father has finished reading the glorious Christmas story from the book of Matthew. What good tidings of One who came to redeem us from our sins. Everyone else has retreated to their warm beds. I am left, sitting on the sofa with a fading fire in the hearth. My new kitten is curled up on my lap, purring with contentment. All is quiet and still, except for the hum of the Christmas lights, an occasional crackle from the fire, and the faint voices of carolers down the lane. I hold a steamy cup of cocoa between my hands. A light shawl is wrapped my shoulders to block out the cold that is beginning to set in for the night. The house is dark, the classic white Christmas lights create a calm glow and soft shadows across the room. The front curtains are drawn to display our humble tree. As I look out the window, the amber street lights illuminate the sparkling flakes as they gently fall from the sky and gather in clusters on the pavement. It has been a wonderful day and a truly white Christmas. I remind there, deep in thought. Little do I know how much this simple memory will mean when the stress and busy days of yonder Christmases loose their specialness. I thank God for this beautiful gift of the moment and climb the creaky stairs to my loft.]