You  2,  Kid   

The millennium is fast on the approach, give or take a year. People have fallen into various camps: those who believe the end is near and Jesus will arrive any day, those who feel technology will instigate a crash of the Titans with techno-hang-ups causing world-wide horror stories, those who "ho-hum," the whole scenario in the assumption that the next century will be business as usual, and the final minority of us who wonder if all of the current earth-changes aren’t nature’s way of telling us it is time to wake up and raise our level of consciousness as the calendar hits double zeros. I gave up making New Year’s resolutions in my youth, as they never lasted through the winter--sort of like my Lenten promises that seldom saw Easter. However, this year I plan to make a major resolution, one I hope will last for the entire year, and perhaps take hold as a habit that will carry far into the millennium. My resolution is to DAILY COUNT MY BLESSINGS.

Giving thanks is one of the best spiritual practices I know. When I remember to do it, I am a happier person. When I appreciate my situation and surroundings, life seems to go right. When I give praise, I feel better about myself. When I actually take five minutes out of my day and try to think of all of the things for which I am grateful, I am overwhelmed by the beauty in my life. That simple act changes my focus from irritation at the things that go wrong or from the feeling of not having enough or being inadequate, to a cornucopia of abundance. And, at this time of year there are so many gifts besides the major ones such as the love of my family and our health—they are what I refer to as my WINTER BLESSINGS.

After fourteen years of tropical living, where our Christmas trees were either fake or the cut blossoms of century plants, I am delighted to be able to spend an afternoon picking out a Douglas fir tree. To smell its wonderful pine scent is worth the sap that stains my clothes in bringing it home. I am able to overlook the effort to put it up in the stand, trim it, water it, and repeatedly sweep the dropped needles from my floors. Each year, Lyric and I cover our tree with the family’s ornaments, which are lovingly brought forth and exclaimed over as we read the date on the back and re-tell the bauble’s individual history. She and I share a middle name, Angelique, and at fifteen she has a collection of angels to represent every year of her life. There have been years here in Western North Carolina when our tree has still brandished its place of honor on President’s Day or Valentine’s Day, because we could not bear to banish it to the compost pile. With the tinsel and colored globes, it is the light of winter’s darkness.

Christmas is: Santa Bear Sundays at Unity, pageants & parades, gifts in the mail and mistletoe sprigs held high overhead. It is baking and cooking and expressing love through creation… whether it be the gift or the gift-wrapping-and the latter is usually very creative in our household. Tradition is a major joy of our holiday—from the snow-globe music box collection to homemade garlic-opal basil vinegar to give as gifts. Our crèche, worse for wear but still a highlight of our household, was a gift from my mother-in-law. It was purchased when my husband was a small child, and was part of his family’s decorations throughout his youth. We establish our own traditions for our family, which are as simple as watching both versions of Miracle On 34th Street every year. After a lifestyle of chartering, where Christmas always meant another day’s work, it is a blessing to be able to devote time to family and the joy of Christ’s birth. I begin singing carols in early November!

Christmas cards are one of my favorite things. I string them up from the rafters, forming garlands of joy from around the country. There are so many people that have touched me over the years with their love whom I seldom see, but at this time each year, we re-connect. When I hear people say, "I hate Christmas letters! Nothing but bragging about this or that…who cares?" I say, "I do! Christmas letters bring you back into my heart. Brag all you want!!!! I am so glad you are well, and life has joy for you. I want the very best for all of you. I want to share your happiness, even if I don’t know your children, or the grandkids you are exclaiming over… you were, are, a blessing in my life, and I am happy for you."

Talking on the telephone with loved-ones far away, and parties with nearby friends & family are way up there on the list. I especially like dressing up for the latter. Each year, I buy my daughter a Christmas outfit even tho', as a teenager, she may not wear it very often. It's the idea of making the occasion "special."

Nothing thrills me more at Christmas than snow. I'm lucky to have a job at a local community college that closes over the holidays, so snow is not an inconvenience for our family. Instead, it means sledding & making snow angels, hot toddy’s by the fire, the smell of wood smoke on the air with the crunch of white crystals underfoot, pink cheeks above scarves wrapped tight, mittens and snowballs, daily refills of the birdfeeder & hours of antics provided by our winged friends, deer tracks across the meadow, dogs frolicking after being cooped up inside, and the reflection of millions of rainbows as the sun begins the melt.

Suddenly it is New Year’s Eve, with the ball dropping, Auld Lang Syne being sung, streamers, champagne, midnight kisses, horns, confetti, staying up late, and, yes, this year’s resolution. I can hardly wait. I think this may be the best year ever. I hope it is for you, too, kid.

Gabrielle Thompson lives with her husband Ed and daughter Lyric in the mountains of western North Carolina at Eco-Cove, a 117-acre wildlife sanctuary and trout farm. She has a degree in Anthropology, works in the library at the local community college, and is a free-lance writer. Previously, she helped Ed build, sail, and charter the 75' schooner, SATORI, for 14 years in the Virgin Islands.