I was about to post (for the first time in a little while) about the light we find in our stories — and I will do that. But then, I ran across my post from last year and it still seems relevant, maybe even instructive. So here it is again. I hope you can collect a few hugs, find some light. Merry Everything That’s Holy.
After the long, hard slog of autumn, it’s the morning of Christmas Eve. I am a swirl of thoughts and emotions as I face my fears and count my blessings. My older daughter is home from college, having survived her first semester with many triumphs, and my younger one still has that Christmas sparkle in her eye. The younger one has decided she’s in charge of the Elf on the Shelf, which we never had when they were younger but that suddenly appears in all sorts of unpredictable places now that she is a high school junior. The older one seems to be collecting hugs to use for a rainy day.
Collecting hugs seems like a good idea to me, especially since the future in the good ol’ USA seems particularly bleak and frightening. Holding each other and carrying our most vulnerable is probably the most important thing we can…
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