“It was the day before Christmas and it had been snowing hard all day. They began in the early morning, shortly after seven, large feathery flakes sliding down as if they were only playing. They soon grew larger, swirling fantastically, like children taking hold of hands, chasing one another through a fairy world, now this way, now that, whimsically with no regular meter or rhythm.”
~From The Substitute Guest by Grace Livingston Hill
So begins the book that I have read more times than I can count. At least a dozen times over as many Christmas seasons, and I had it read to me as a child many times before that. It is a quaint story, old-fashioned in its notions and at times un-intentionally comical in it’s dialogue. Sweet, perhaps a tad corny, but endearing. You see, it’s a tradition. A cherished one. An important one actually, because it is a rare place that I carve out a little sanity for myself during a busy time of year.
Starting on the sixth of December each year, I curl up — me, my book, and a cup of hot cocoa by the light of the Christmas tree. Just before I turn in for the night, I make time for myself reading one chapter each night through Christmas Eve.
As I read, I slow down. I remember to enjoy this time of year. I remember my own childhood memories. The way my brother and sister and I would huddle up with mugs of marshmallow-topped hot cocoa while Dad read to us the very same story.
And I remember the importance of slowing down enough to make sure my own children have opportunities to make such memories.
Even on days like yesterday when the entire day revolved around my youngest child’s relentless sensory issues and attempting to keep enough food down him to keep him out of the failure to thrive category. Especially on days like yesterday. I can’t be who I need to be for my children if I don’t take the time to remind myself of who I am.
And tonight, and each night through the Christmas season, I am a girl who loves old-fashioned childhood books, time-worn traditions, and marshmallow-topped hot cocoa.
Tomorrow…
Tomorrow I will find the strength I need to be the Mom I need to be for one more day.
So what about you? What have you done for you lately? Tell us about it with your comment…
“We need quiet time to examine our lives openly and honestly … spending quiet time alone gives your mind an opportunity to renew itself and create order.”
~Susan L. Taylor
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