Last night my son and daughter-in-love stopped by, their first Christmas tree bundled and tied to the top of his Jeep. "Hey, Mom. Sorry we can't stay to visit. Can we get that box of ornaments, the Christmas decorations, from the basement?"
We walk downstairs, turn on the lights, find 5 boxes marked
with his name. The boxes contain the collections of childhood:
a Victorian Christmas village, his tree ornaments, a handful of Longaberger Christmas baskets, a set of holiday dishes.
We carry 3 boxes out to the Jeep, leaving the village in storage.
"Do you have
a tree stand?"
and student loans,
for the first time.
Like a softly accumulating snow reflecting the moonlight, the
man and woman standing before me will light the world this Christmas, continuing on a few family traditions and beginning
new celebrations all their own.
The MoM in me is WoW'd.
Parents, don't come down too hard
on your children or you'll crush their spirits.
Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune
with each other, in step with each other.