Only a Week Away

Each year, no matter how much I think I may be ready for them, the holidays always seem to arrive much more quickly than expected.

Priscille's festive Annalee Dolls welcome
guests who enter into the foyer of our home.

In early October, I begin getting my thoughts in order for the onset of Thanksgiving and Christmas. 

I start thinking about making up a Christmas wish list; begin to consider what gifts to buy for others (I’m not very good at that).

But mainly, I look forward with anticipation to our convivial gatherings with friends and family – dear people with whom Priscille and I have the chance, once again, to share, to reminisce, and to be joyous.  Having the opportunity to add to one’s storehouse of precious memories is a privilege – a gift from the Almighty.

I frown at the still unsuccessful attempts of secularists to overshadow the underlying messages of Thanksgiving and of Christmas, knowing that the best way to overcome that yearly bout of overindulgence in things is simply to not participate too heavily in the process of, well, things.

Not to be a Scrooge, you understand, but simply to emphasize and to commemorate the essence of those holidays.

In my mind, Thanksgiving constitutes an acknowledgement of the unique achievement of the giants who founded America, the women and men upon whose broad and burly shoulders we stand.

As for me, an unabashedly proud Christian, Christmas represents the entry into history of a Jewish man, a carpenter’s son born in a dusty little Middle East village, one whose teachings would leave an indelible imprint upon the minds and hearts of billions of people, a person whose words would change the trajectory of history.

Thanks for reading and be good to yourselves.

(Click on the image for an enhanced view.)