This afternoon started out with a gray cloud hanging over me. The husband was off hunting again, youngest son was with the band at an away football game, middle son was working until close, and my daughter (the eldest) was with friends enjoying her Friday night. I looked at the tons of Christmas decoration boxes and sat down in a chair. What is it about the prospect of decorating a tree and making the house all festive when you're most likely the only one who's going to enjoy or probably even notice it? I wondered if all the work was really worth it, and contemplated not bothering.
But visiting my parents today, I noticed they had a simple gold metal tree set up. Its lights cast a warming glow throughout the whole living room and it was nice to look at. As my mom is very ill, I was glad to see Dad had gone to the trouble of putting up the decoration for the holidays. He'd also bought and wrapped his "Advent angels" to give to all the women/girls of the family and certain close friends once again, even though it must've been hard for him to get to a store while someone stayed with Mom.
Couldn't I be of similar spirit? I had much to be grateful for; especially good health and a strong body. If my parents could maintain and carry on the important traditions, why couldn't I? All these thoughts whirled around in my head as I begrudgingly started to work on my Christmas tree. Before I'd gotten started good, my daughter bounced into the room and said she'd decided not to hang out with friends because she wanted to decorate with me.
As she dug through the boxes of ornaments to cull out the pink ones for this year's tree, I looked down at my hands, already shiny with glitter from the ribbons I'd been curling. Sometimes, depending on our outlook, things that glitter really are gold. As my own living room is aglow with the lights from my angel-topped tree, I'm grateful I went ahead with decorating plans, even though I didn't "feel like it," and for parents who've always led by example.
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