Creating Change at Christmas

        Creating Change at Christmas

There had not even been one drop of snow. I suppose the correct wording would be ‘flakes of snow’. Not even the tiniest dust mote of snow! But the sky. It was as blue as any winter sky could get - on the west coast. All around me, what should have been white, softly sculpted mounds of glittering cold white frosting was soggy, wet, damp and muddy pavement.  

Oh, there was lots of green space and it really was quite beautiful. Fall colours decorated the trees, sidewalks and streets in reds, golds and yellows. All of those golden rusty leaves had yet to be picked up by the city crew and their leaf blowers, compacters and shredders - all noisy and loud.  

Looking back over her own words, Francine could see with disappointment that she was unhappy with her lot. Well, she seemed to have been unhappy with her lot for most of her life. She could quickly paint a very real looking smile on her face, but when left to her own devices for very long, her face once more became drawn and sad.

How to effect a change where no change could be seen? She had been told so very many times to change her attitude. Stop whining. How would that change how her heart felt?

There was to be one more Christmas with one more litany of woes expressed by all and sundry about hating the season. Hating the season! As a child it had been all excitement. Getting out decorations, hearing the stories - family stories and church stories. Baking. All so wonderful. And the snow, the skating rink. Ah, skating: Another piece of the past that she missed! Would there be any possibility that she could return to her home town and relive all of the Christmas’s past?  

Not likely. But despite the usually gray and rainy skies of her new home, she could decorate her own home, even with the tiniest of Christmas trees, and in any other manner of her choosing. Christmas baking in her brand new stove could infuse her home with sweet aromas of this past so dearly missed. If her family could not be with her, she could invite friends for a bit of Christmas cheer. She missed the choir - there were choral events and galas to attend throughout this small city.

And maybe, just maybe....... remodeling childhood lessons with a grateful and gentle attitude would release the tight bands around her heart and she would hear her lost angels sing once more.

“You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that 

it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present.”

~ Jan Glidewel