The Playhouse

The boxes have been hauled down from the attic, the decorations wrapped, loaded and packed away. That part of Christmas is history, but there’s been much more to my Christmas than what we packed away in the attic.
The sparkle from the gold nativity scene on our dining table was reflected onto the faces of our family and friends. That warm light still lingers in the room where Christmas 2012 was celebrated. None of that joy will be closed up in storage.
It was sad as always to pack away the strings of lights that made December nights glow. January nights will be cold and dark, but the glow from the Light of the world living inside me is eternal. That truth dispels all sadness.
We froze some leftover turkey and ham and a sampling of sweets. The rest was stored somewhere around my waistline!
The house went from stadium noise to “not a creature was stirring” silence when the last car pulled out on Christmas Day. Nostalgia attempted to throw its blanket of melancholy over me, but blessings remembered stood guard around me: the den couch stacked with relaxed, stuffed bodies warmed by a Christmas movie and crackling fire, Shields’ sharing that she prayed she would think about Jesus more than she thought about presents, Patton reciting Luke 2:7-14 from “Smurfed-blue-candied” lips, Major’s joy in endless four-wheeler rides by his cousins, James Wesley’s smiles that ran nonstop, Camea’s willingness to upgrade and teach her grandparents “i” stuff, Carson’s determination to harvest deer meat for biscuits and gravy, CandyLee’s buying me skinny jeans with her own money and not being embarrassed for me to wear them!
The attic weighs heavy again with Christmas tree sections and boxes of decorations. They will rest undisturbed for the next eleven months until they’re brought down again for another Christmas celebration. Those eleven months hold a future no one knows. Everyone and everything will change. Until then, my “unpacked” Christmas memories will continue to gladden my heart, and the peace of the One who came will cover the future.
Camille Anding
camilleanding@gmail.com