I Wish You....

I take walks through my neighborhood - usually in the morning after I wake up and before I go to work. I did that this morning.

I also walked tonight when I got home from work. Just as the snow started falling and dusting the ground and road surfaces. Just after people had turned their Christmas lights on for the night. Just as I put my headphones in my ears and started listening to one of my favorite Christmas albums on my IPod - "Christmas Adagios." It's a collection of "quiet" arrangements of familiar tunes. One of my favorites on the album is a version of "Amazing Grace" that blends into "Silent Night."

It was during that tune, while only a clarinet was carrying the tune, that I heard these words in my head:

"I wish you Christmas.

Not with resentment over the way you think a retailer wants you to observe Christmas.

But with the soul of a single parent who works a second job at that retailer to make extra money to wish their children Christmas.

Not with the pressure to find the perfect Christmas tree at the "cut your own" farm that will make the house smell just right and will fit in the room like it was designed for that space.

But with the joy of taking the cold air into your lungs and feeling it awaken parts of you that have laid dormant over the summer. Then, after seeing the tree in the middle of the field, wondering why even though others have cast eyes upon it, it was never chosen, though it is truly perfect.

Not with the solitary possession of the holiday as if it is yours to own.

But by being universal with distribution of grace that comes from knowing that the holiday has taken ownership of some secular traditions throughout the years, thus enhancing it's glory.

Not with the concern in hoping the Department of Transportation clears the highways of the fresh fallen snow so that you can finish your pre-Christmas day chores.

But with the wonder that in the total amount of the snowfall spread over the entire region, no two individual contributors to the wintry blanket are the same.

Not with the melancholy that follows the calendar day after, in mournful acceptance that Christmas is over.

But with the mirth of Christmas morning in knowing that you've received a booster shot of Christmas to carry you for the next year.

Not with the concern of selecting the perfect present.

But with the wisdom and peace of knowing you've presented your best gift.

I wish you Christmas."