Wait and Hope

“There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more.

 He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness.

 We must of felt what it is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life.
 Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget, that until the day God will deign to reveal the future to man,

 all human wisdom is contained in these two words, 

'Wait and Hope.”

 -Alexandre Dumas

Growing up in a small town, the Christmas season brought about many levels of expectation. 

 I mean let's face it, 

when you grow up in a town that only has a flashing red light and your closest neighbors are your great-grandparents who lived on the left side of your house

and your grandparents who lived on the right side---

well

the Christmas season brought something out of the ordinary into the life of a imaginative girl living in a tiny town that was only big enough to have a four-way stop with a flashing light.

As soon as the Charlie Brown Special, The Great Pumpkin, ended,

the season of waiting began.

We waited for Daddy to head to the woods and find us a tree he thought was special (it was always crooked and not really all that full) but we thought it was amazing.  It filled our house with the sweet smell of the coming season.  He'd place it in that red and green tree holder, fill it with water and cram it into some corner where it waited in anticipation to see what kind of "dress" we kids might decide to place on it. 

We'd spend days unraveling the bundled of matted Christmas lights and then spend hours trying to find the one bulb that was making the string not work.  We'd hang glass bulbs and string popcorn and make our own "special and most beautiful" hanging surprises.

My favorite part of the whole tree thing would be when mama would break open that package of silver icicles.  They would glimmer in the light and I'd hold them over my head catching the lights of the trees.  I would throw each icicle up one at a time letting in land where it fell and all in all---well we really believed our tree was the most beautiful of all.  Looking back--it uncovers the wonder of childhood and the way ordinary little things take on their own magical splendor---cause let me tell you---our tree would not ever have won any kind of prize in any kind of Christmas tree pageant, but it sure made ordinary life in a tiny small town on the edge of Western Kentucky take own its' own magical splendor.

The tree of course was the beginning of the long wait.

We waited for the Christmas parade that occurred in the next town over.  Mama and Daddy would take us there, drive up to the curve,

place us on the hood and cover us in blankets.  There we'd huddle together and watch as a band or two would march by playing jingle bells or joy to the world.  Local "celebrities" like the mayor or the beauty queen from the county fair would pass by waving and occasionally throwing us a piece of bubble gum or a tootsie roll.

The Shriner's would pass in their funny looking hats and clowns would ride by on little motorcycles. 

The best part of the parade was always at the end...

when the replica of a house covered in snow would come with a 

big fat or sometimes skinny Santa in his red suit and white beard sticking out the chimney--giving mama and daddy a new threat to make us "be good girls."

And as the parade ended and the tree was hung,

my sister and I (my baby brother had not been born yet or was so small I don't remember him being there yet) would begin the 

long season of Waiting....

waiting to write our list,

waiting to tell Santa,

waiting for the Christmas play at church where we both dressed in white angle costumes and held candles singing silent night as shepherds dressed in bathrobes would kneel before someones baby doll who was dressed for the evening like baby Jesus.

We'd wait for Christmas eve and lay in bed that night waiting for the joy of Christmas morning gift.

I always hated when it was all over and even as an adult now

I find I like to wait...

wait to open the last gift 

because I don't want all the excitement caused by the waiting to be over.

Waiting teaches us lots of things

like wonder

and

joy 

and 

awe that we don't always remember to see or experience.

I don't really like waiting for many things...

but as the Season

comes upon us...

I find...

I still like the long drag

of 

minutes to Christmas.

We wait...

wait with the hope that Christmas is coming...

we wait...

wait for the baby Jesus to be placed back in the manger,

wait for something to bring the magic

to us again

wait for the wonder

....

we wait with hope

and

the seconds continue to tick

filling 

us 

with...........Hope.

Have a wonderful season of waiting

may it bring to us 

the joy of hope we are awaiting.

blessings...

the radical rambler.