Two years ago I expected to spend Christmas alone–too much snow. Friends and family came anyway. We ate, sang, laughed. They did not tell me for two weeks how it took them two hours to negotiate my long drive to the main road. No snow this year, not here–prediction remains 60 degrees F. Now these friends are far away: Europe, Mexico. My daughter and grandson will be here; we will miss my son.
Beauty lies outside the windows
and in my heart.
Food fills the refrigerator.
Homemade bread lays on the counter, ready.
Music rings from CDs.
Christianity is not required to celebrate: