In my part of the world this Christmas season, the days are wet. Fat drops of rain are always spilling over, unannounced, unwelcomed. I left the kitchen window open one day and we came home to a massive puddle so messy it’s not funny. The weather’s often unkind, to me at least – I get caught in heavy rain more often than I care to count, my dresses are soaked to a darker colour even when I shrunk as much as I could under the brolly, my new Terra Plana shoes stained the colour of rain on cream. There isn’t the comfortable rhythmic pitter-pattering. Only the loud whooshing, droning of heavy downpour, then sudden whispering of a short drizzle, and back to beating down the concrete again. It’s so wet, this December.
Amidst it all, there was warmth. I know I’m blessed with much, but this year, this year beats it all. Friends send parcels from afar, packages big and small, presents they know I will love. They adorn me with food-primping gadgets, coffee-drinking pretties, handmade cards, the little odd things that I so like but always too reluctant to splurge on. So thoughtful, every little gift I’ve received. It always amazes me how well my friends know me, and how they care to indulge me. I have the most wonderful friends, I swear. And this space, oh this wonderful blog space that I’ve neglected so much. It brought me to the loveliest bunch of people, people I wouldn’t have crossed paths with if not for this. You know who you are – thank you.
The huddy and I made a pact to not exchange presents this year, because we’ve got so much it feels like a mini-sin to take more. So I took that sum to give a little. A little to the students who just have it harder. A little to children who need medical attention. A little to communities who could barely afford the basics. A little to a kid out there. There’s something magical about giving. It makes you want to give more, take less, and appreciate more the things I take.
So this is my Christmas. My heart is light, the homeland is bright. All is right.
Merry merry Christmas.
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