The Perfect Gift

image courtesy of flickr

Today as I walked across the playground to my car, carrying a big box of treasures my little ones and their families had bestowed on me, I stared up at the pale sky and grinned at small miracles, like the joy of outside recess for the first time in weeks.

As I crossed the playground past wallball courts, one of my little boys, who stays for after school care, came tearing across the blacktop, running full speed and only stopping when his arms were tightly wrapped around my legs, like it had been years since we'd seen each other, instead of the short side of half an hour.

I adore this kid.  He's helpful and kind, smart and hilarious.  He excels in making armpit noises.  He's everything a kid should be.

Earlier in the week, he'd strutted into class and during the "Good News" portion of our Class Morning Meeting he'd showed off his new, fast shoes.

He lamented, "But, Mrs. McCauley, it's been raining forever and I'm never going to get to show you my fast shoes during P.E.  All I want to do is run and play."  He rested his head on my shoulder.

"Buddy, I'm with you.  All I want is for you to be able to run and play.  Believe me," I said with utter sincerity.  Sweet teacher friends, you know the desperation that arises after days on end of rain and no recess.  It's a visceral need akin to thirst or hunger.

As I balanced my box and he hugged my legs, he looked up at me and grinned, the windowed smile that is the hallmark of first grade.  This kid has freckles for days, smattered across his nose and cheeks.

"Have a merry Christmas," I leaned into him. 

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. McCauley.  I'm going to miss you."

For many of my little ones, the last day before Christmas break is a difficult day.  Being away from school, from friends, from teachers and librarians and aides and cooks and custodians who love them so much is hard.   This little one has a family who loves him, a warm house, food on the table, but still it's hard.  Two weeks is an eternity to a kid.

"I'm going to miss you, too, but I'll see you after vacation.  And then we'll tell each other all about the things we did,"  I assure him.

I felt him nodding his head against my leg.  He peeled away from me and walked a few steps before turning back toward me.  He swallowed hard.

"I love you, Mrs. McCauley."

He waited for me to say it back.  I always do.  I tell my kids all of the time, but still never enough, that I love them.

"I love you, too, buddy,"  I smiled.

He gave a last wave and ran toward the swings.  I watched his fast shoes splash through the puddles.

At home, I unpacked all of my gifts, filling two notepad pages with names and items for one of these lazy vacation mornings when I'll sit in my pajamas with a cup of tea and pen thank you notes.

As I sat under the light of my Christmas tree, I smiled because I knew I'd received a gift too big to be listed in a notebook, a gift so perfect that I'll be grateful for it long after I've penned my thanks for all the other kindnesses I received today.

Men of Goodwill

I have a friend, Jason, who has three noteworthy talents.  Wait, that came out wrong.  Sorry, Jason.  He has many noteworthy talents, but three in particular that I greatly appreciate.

1. He orders well off the In N Out secret menu.

2. He can play pretty much any instrument just by looking at it.

3. He picks out the most perfect music for me, music that I wouldn't normally give a second glance to.  Then he points it out and lo and behold the songs he suggests are now all of my favorites.

That third one may actually verge on the side of superpower and it's that talent/superpower that brings me here today.

A few weeks ago Jason tweeted about loving this Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth mash-up that Bing Crosby and David Bowie sang together.  Rub your eyes all you want, you read that right.

Bing Crosby.

David Bowie.

Singing.

Together.

When I read Jason's tweet, my eyes rolled so hard they almost got stuck, which would have been terrible because moms all over the world would have rightfully let out a global, "I told you so."

My eye roll was impeded by a teensy niggling thought.  Jason always recommends brilliant stuff.  But David Bowie and Big Crosby???  No.  Just no.

So with my eyes set on auto roll and my scoff turned on high, I watched the video.

And then I swallowed my scoff back down past the lump in my throat and my eyes were too busy blinking back tears to even think of rolling.

The sorrow of the Newtown shooting was still a bleeding wound, soaking through my days in the classroom and staining my pillow with nightmares.

So when David Bowie sang these lines, I found myself weeping and echoing his prayer.

I pray my wish will come true for my child and your child, too.

He'll see the day of glory,

See the day when men of goodwill live in peace,

Live in peace again.

Many Christmas songs wish goodwill to others, like goodwill is a thing to be gifted with a plate of cookies.  I stopped in my tracks at the phrase "men of goodwill" because as it turns out, all this time goodwill is something to be, not to have.

I get that it's a Christmas song and that you're on an eleven month sabbatical from Christmas music, but that verse has been loping in my head for the last few weeks as my little ones and I studied Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his call for all of us to be a people with spirits devoted to equality, a people with minds set on peace, and a people with hearts pulsing with goodwill.

This Monday as we honor Dr. King, his words will ring in my heart and in a surprising twist, David Bowie and Bing Crosby will be singing the soundtrack that plays in my mind as I seek opportunities to be a woman of goodwill.

Thankful Thursday #85

This week I'm thankful for...

• Christmas Eve service
• listening to my hubby read the Christmas story on Christmas morning
• homemade fudge
• time off with the hubby
• walks on the river trail on frosty mornings
• the smell of my Christmas tree
• lasagna in the Crock Pot
• sleeping in
• a fresh haircut
• warm clothes straight from the dryer
• snow
• the blog The Middlest Sister, which had me laughing out loud in obnoxious guffaws and snorts

Dreaming of Africa

It's been an incredibly sad and somewhat scary week to be a teacher.  I haven't been sleeping very much this week, three to four hours a night at the most.

Last night I slept soundly and dreamed that I returned to Uganda.  Uganda has been on my heart so much lately.  In truth Uganda and my children there have been on my heart since I stepped foot on the plane back to California last July.

I miss my beautiful Ugandan sons with such acuteness that often it's a physical ache in my heart.

In my dream I was on an airplane descending through the clouds.  When the clouds cleared, I looked out my window and Uganda was spread out beneath me.  But the landscape wasn't trees and dirt, it was a painting alive with color.  Blues and oranges and greens purples and pinks all teeming with life.

I recognized the artist of the painted land out my airplane window right away.  Somehow Tricia Kibler, the amazing artist who comes to my classroom and teaches my little ones (including her son) art lessons every month, had managed to paint the whole of Africa.  I love that things like that seem completely ordinary in dreams.

The splendor of the painted landscape took my breath away and in my dream I began to cry.

My alarm clock woke me and I was surprised to find myself wiping real tears from my eyes.  I stood at my bedroom window watching the snow fall, the white world a transfixing juxtaposition to the vibrant Africa of my dream.

I sent Tricia a message telling her about my dream.

Little did I know that just minutes before I'd messaged her, she'd begun to dream up a painting of Africa for me.

This afternoon she brought me a Christmas present and when I unwrapped the painting, I cried for Africa for the second time in the day, this time not just for the beauty of my dream, but for the very real ways God sends assurance that I will return.  As Christmas draws near, I'm especially grateful to love a God who speaks to my broken places in such tangible ways.

Dreaming of Africa by Tricia Kibler

Thankful Thursday #83

This week I'm thankful for...

• crisp clear days when I can make the short drive to school with the top down and the seat warmers on high.  34 degrees out?  Pffft!  Perfect convertible weather!
• my little one who sang Silent Night to the class.  She didn't quite get all the words right, but frankly "holy infinity so tender and wild" is beautiful and profound
• coffee with good friends
• Christmas music in the morning
• reading The Velveteen Rabbit to my class
• the melted crayon Christmas tree batiks I made with my class and the parent volunteers who made painting with hot waxy cups of melted crayons with 30 first graders doable
• the fact that I did not set the off the smoke detector when ironing the wax out of the batiks-that's a Festivus miracle right there!

Here's one of my favorite Christmas tree batiks painted by one of my little ones.

Thankful Thursday #82

Kissletoe

This week I'm thankful for...

• the little boy selling sprigs of "kissletoe" outside the grocery store
• my fence that stayed standing in the fierce windstorms
• holiday sweater sightings
• Christmas carols
• Salvation Army bell ringers
• peppermint hot cocoa
• spin class on rainy days
• clothes warm from the dryer
• scarves

My Grandmother's Skirt

A tiny crack splintered through my heart when I hung my grandmother's skirt up in my closet this Christmas.  It's a red and green plaid skirt that sits perfectly on my hips and floats at my knees, a traveling pants sort of miracle being that I'm 6' tall and my grandmother was 5' on a tall day.

The skirt is one of two items I took from her closet when she passed away.  The other was a bland oatmeal sweater that smelled like her.  I kept that sweater on for days after she died, breathing in her smell even as I laid in bed nights, listening to the sounds that felt all wrong in her house.

But the skirt went unworn.  Last year I couldn't put it on without crying and so it hung at the back of my closet, its red and green merriment lost in a dark corner.  This year I was able to wear the skirt with only the slightest quiver in my bottom lip when I looked in the mirror.

I paired my grandmother's skirt with a green cowl neck blouse, a black jacket zigzagged with zippers, black tights and tall black boots with the skinniest of heels.  For good measure I added my favorite leather studded bracelet.  I remember my grandmother wearing the skirt, so proper in her heels and nylons and a red sweater on top.  She would have laughed and shaken her head at her modest skirt paired with a my hints of edginess.  A thousand times I wanted to send her a photo.  I wanted our pictures to stand next to each other, each of us wearing this magical skirt, her red lipsticked mouth smiling out at my own pale grin.

Every single time I took her skirt out for a spin, I was showered with compliments.  I'm not fashionable or trendy in any sense of those words.  I'm gangly and awkward and when I can find pants that don't look like I'm readying for a flood, well, that's a fashion win in my book.

My grandmother's skirt

When I stepped out in my grandmother's skirt, it was a whole new experience.

"I love that skirt."

"That is a fantastic skirt!"

"You look radiant in that skirt.  It really brings out the color in your cheeks."

Needless to say, I felt great in that skirt, so great that I carefully put it in my clothing rotation as often as possible.  The skirt is so unabashedly red and green that the only possible month to wear it is December and so I decided to make the most of my month with my grandmother's skirt.

I took it to see 'It's a Wonderful Life'.  I wore it to three Christmas parties.  I wore it to the Christmas sing-a-long on the last day of school.  And finally I donned  it for our Christmas morning church service.

As we read the Communion passage, I held the plastic Communion cup, complete with wafer sealed on top, and swirled the grape juice so that it coated the sides of the cup red.  I thought about how Christ's sacrifice covers my sins and I thought about how if I peeled back the wrapper on that cup and poured it on my skirt, the red wool would soak it up and nobody would even notice.  For the record, I didn't pour it out.  I savored the wafer on my tongue and washed it down with the bittersweet juice, running red down my throat.

After church and after all the gifts were opened at my mom's house, a knot caught in my throat when I hung my grandmother's skirt up that Christmas afternoon.  I ran my hand over the wool and slipped the skirt back into the recesses of my closet.  I squeezed into Spandex for a Christmas bike ride.  Under a blindingly blue sky and with the taste of Communion still on my lips, I thought of all the gifts I've received this past year, both tangible and not.

And I smiled because somehow in spite of her passing my grandmother still manages to give incredible gifts.

In her skirt I felt vibrant.

I felt confident.

I felt beautiful.

And the most magical gift of my grandmother's skirt is that when I took it off, all those feelings remained.

Thankful Thursday #52

This week I'm thankful for...

• time off at home with the hubby
• reading in bed in the morning
• staying up late
• Pinterest, the giant time suck that has shown me all sorts of useful things to make out of ratty old t-shirts
• time to re-organize my house
• walks with friends
• cheesecake.  Hey, if you'd eaten this cheesecake, you'd know it's a totally legit thing to be thankful for.
• Christmas carols
• practical jokes
• reading the Christmas story with my hubby in the quiet house on Christmas morning
• Communion at church on Christmas morning.  It moves me to tears every year.
• riding The Rocket on Christmas day
• jeans that fit perfectly
• brand spankin' new cycling socks
• the red afghan a student's mother made for me.  It's beautiful and comes with a great story for another time.

Thankful Thursday #51

This week I'm thankful for...

• watching the last troops leave Iraq
• turning off my alarm clock for the next couple of weeks
• Christmas vacation
• watching David Hallberg dance at the Bolshoi
• A Charlie Brown Christmas
• singing Christmas carols with my little ones
• packages in the mail
• homemade gifts
• my little one who said he was so excited that his "heart was pumping with Christmas"

Thankful Thursday #50

This week I'm thankful for...

• local theater and the opportunity for kids to act
• pink eye.  It allowed me to take a sick day without being all that sick.
• decorating the tree with my hubby
• sitting by the light of the Christmas tree
• unexpected chances to catch up with old friends
• parent volunteers
• my foster grandmother, who loves my little ones so very much

Enough

Christmas morning and bicycles will always be tied together in my mind.  I vividly recall stumbling out to the living room in footsie pajamas and seeing a shiny pink bicycle, complete with flowered banana seat, waiting for me by the Christmas tree.  Three years later I found a beautiful, blue Bianchi ten speed with my name on it standing by the tree.  And many, many years after that my husband bought me Frank the Tank for Christmas.

To this day I love going for a spin in my neighborhood just after Christmas to see all the wobbly wheeled kids strapped in helmets navigating the sidewalks on sparkly new bicycles.  This post is in anticipation of all the new bicycles that will hit the pavement for the first time Christmas morning.

There's something magical about Christmas.  Maybe it's the carols floating through the air or the scent of cinnamon permeating, well, everything.  Whatever it is, even this glitter-hating, heart full of unwashed socks Grinch of a girl softens up just a bit.

image courtesy of love2pedal.com

Everywhere I look there's joy and delight.  I'm not talking about the aisles of Christmas accoutrements in the stores.  I'm talking about the moments that cause me to stop and smile for an extra second or two.  Like opening the mailbox and having stacks of Christmas cards spill out.

image courtesy of rodamb-blogspot.com

Or the smell of the first snow and the glory of a tarnished world turning white before my eyes.

image courtesy of superstock.com

Not to mention the pure pleasure of flopping down in the snow and flapping my arms and legs until a snow angel arches her wings underneath me.

image courtesy of desertrosepress.com

It's the little things that tickle me most like candy canes hooked over the edges of mugs of hot cocoa or a snowman peeking over his carrot nose.

image courtesy of danheller.com

 At night the world is all a-twinkle, lights shining bright into the dark, calling up to the stars that sparkle in response.

image courtesy of switchboard.nrdc.org

There's joy in finding the perfect tree.  Maybe it's a spindly Charlie Brown tree you found on a mountain top and cut down with your mittened hands.

image courtesy of inhabitat.com

 Or maybe you take home the thickest tree from the corner lot.

image courtesy of techeblog.com

 No matter where your tree came from, pulling the boxes of ornaments out of the attic, turning on your favorite Christmas music and adorning each branch makes for a perfect day.

image courtesy of tributesport.com

 When I was a kid, my brothers and sister and I piled into one bedroom on Christmas Eve.  We'd giggle in our sleeping bags and sometimes always sneak a peek at the presents.  But the best part of the night was listening for Santa's sleigh on the roof.

image courtesy of odditycentral.com

Every tapping tree against the windows and each creak of the house became absolute proof of prancing and pawing hooves.

image courtesy of instructables.com

We'd crane our necks and cock our ears to the side, convincing my little brother that Santa was hard at work while we squirmed in our sleeping bags.

image courtesy of the Embassy of Indonesia

In the morning, the cookies we'd baked for Santa were only crumbs left on the plate next to an empty glass of milk.

image courtesy of trishadean.blogspot.com

Christmas morning began with stockings, the toe of the stocking stuffed with an apple and an orange that went straight to the kitchen fruit bowl despite my mother's tales of how children used to cherish Christmas oranges.  She had a point, but it was only later in the day when I'd made myself sick by eating my entire Book of Lifesavers that I'd eat the orange.

image courtesy of cmybacon.com

 My mother was a master gift wrapper, each gift wrapped in beautiful paper, with military corners and a shiny bow on top.  The presents I'd wrapped were always a rumpled disaster of paper that would never lay down flat and yards of Scotch tape to hold it all together.

image courtesy of loren24250.wordpress.com

These days my favorite part of Christmas is when my husband and I sit on the couch underneath piles of blankets and read the story of Mary and Joseph and the night they welcomed my Christ to Earth.

image courtesy of mesamooncards.com

After the gifts have been opened and all the Lifesavers and oranges have been eaten, we sing O Holy Night and hope that God hears us amongst the choirs of heavenly hosts.  We offer our praise in exchange for the gift of his Son.  On Christmas and the rest of the year we are profoundly grateful for God's grace that somehow makes our meager offerings enough.

Bicycle Heaven by Denise Cottin

A Few of My Favorite Things

This Christmas I received many gifts that made my Grinch-sized heart grow.  There are a few in particular that stand out.  None of them are extravagant.  None of them are expensive.  They are simple and lovely.  And I am blessed to have people in my life who gave me such wonderful gifts.

1.  A friend made me a beautiful dragonfly necklace.  She used understated earth tones and I appreciate the fact that she took time out of her impossibly busy schedule to create something she knew I'd love.  I gave her a book.  I bought it online.  I am lame.



2.  Our school has a Christmas Boutique where kids can shop for gifts for their families.  One little girl, a blond fairy of a girl, kept shooing me away while she shopped because she had something in her basket I couldn't see.  The next day she slipped a small box under our classroom tree.  I unwrapped the box and inside sat this precious dragonfly brooch.

"How did you know dragonflies are my favorite?"  I asked her.

"You told me once a long time ago, when I was little, and I remembered."  She smiled proudly, showing off the window where her front teeth used to be.

I wore the brooch all day and thought of the precious girl, who at the age of six is still little, but already has a big heart.



3.  This giant Hershey's kiss was from another of my little ones.  He's an affectionate boy and we've had some conversations about how we hug, but don't kiss each other at school.  He gave me a basket of pansies and then handed me a wrapped box.  When I opened it, he said "This kind of kiss is allowed at school, right?"  The class erupted into peels of laughter and the clever little guy grinned from ear to ear.

4.  I received this angel ornament from another student.  The ornament is sweet and when I hang it on the tree each year, I will remember how tightly the little boy hugged me after I opened it.  He also gave me dish of Hershey's kisses and repeated the line from the kid who gave me the giant chocolate kiss.  In first grade if a joke is funny the first time, it's absolutely hilarious the second time around.

5.  I have a friend who used to race bicycles and he always gives me awesome cycling stuff.  This year he gave me a gift card to RoadID.com.  My emergency shoe tag was wearing out and so I bought a shiny new one along with a wicking hat for spin class.  There are two great things about this present.  First, if something dastardly goes down on my bike, my shoe tag can help emergency workers figure out who I am very quickly.  Secondly, and much less morbidly, RoadID gives a percentage of each sale to one of nine charities, so upon check out you can choose which charity receives some cash.  Naturally, I chose LiveStrong.



6. My grandmother used to wear White Diamonds lotion.  When she passed away earlier this year, I wore one of her sweaters just to have her scent on my skin.  My aunt wrapped up a tube of White Diamonds for me this year and when I unwrapped it and unscrewed the lid, I was immediately filled with the scent of my grandmother, the scent of all the joyous memories we had together.

7. Okay, when I said none of the gifts I received this year were expensive or extravagant, I apparently had a brain hemorrhage and forgot about the gift Terry gave me.  My hubby gave me a housekeeper for a year.  Let that sink in for a minute.  He gave me an Alice.  Revel with me for a moment here: an entire year of no vacuuming, no dusting, no mopping.  Ladies, I understand that you're probably swooning.  Put your head between your knees for a sec and breathe.  Yes, he is that good.  No, he doesn't have a brother.

 

I hope your Christmas was full of lovely gifts and joyous memories.  And even if your heart was already the right size, I hope this Christmas season made it swell at least three sizes bigger.

 

Christmas in the Trenches

Over at her blog Hippie Cahier posted the beautiful and true story of the Christmas Truce of 1914.  It's the true story of soldiers on opposite sides of the war putting down their weapons to celebrate Christmas Eve together.  It's a beautiful illustration of the best of the human spirit even in the worst of times.

Here is the story as told by musician John McCutcheon.  I hope your Christmas is full of joy and that you find peace in even the most unexpected of places.

Merry Christmas!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9coPzDx6tA

The Christmas Story

It's Christmas Eve and I'm all excited about my favorite Christmas morning tradition.  Every Christmas morning Terry and I snuggle under blankets with mugs of steaming tea and we read the story of Christ's birth.  We pray and give thanks for all of the blessings in our life.  So, on Christmas Eve, here is a slightly more modern digital retelling.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkHNNPM7pJA

What are your favorite Christmas Eve or Christmas Day traditions?

Thankful Thursday #3

This week I'm thankful for...

• the little girl who told me that I have beautiful hair like a movie star.  I didn't ask which one because I thought I'd just better leave well enough alone.


• walking my old neighborhood with my mom


• the jar of peppermint nougat Christmas tree candies my mom gave me


• falling asleep to the sound of rain


• the light of the Christmas tree


• sitting on my couch reading O magazine after a rough day at work


• my student who got a paper cut on her finger and said, "It feels like my finger has a headache."


• the dragonfly necklace my friend made me for Christmas


• the little boy, who moved away earlier this year, and called me this week to tell me all about his new class, his new house, and to tell me about his letter to Santa.  I only told him I missed him 7 times.  And my eyes only watered a little bit when it was time to say goodbye.


• my friend, Abby, who was featured here for the stunning necklaces she creates


• Christmas music on Pandora

What are you thankful for?

Thankful Thursday #2

This week I'm thankful for...

• my grandmother's nativity set.  It's carved from olive trees harvested in Bethlehem.


• playtime with my nephew


• Christmas ornaments from all the places Terry and I have traveled


• Terry's vanilla pancakes on a Sunday morning


• Advent


• Christmas carols during Sunday morning church service


• Knowing I pushed as hard as I could in spin class.


• Sitting by the light of the Christmas tree


• peppermint hot chocolate


• online Christmas shopping


• walking the neighborhood in the misty air

What are you thankful for this week?

Top 10 Christmas Carols

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A few years ago, one of my students made me a CD of Christmas carols and other holiday songs.  He picked the songs out with his family and it is a gorgeous, GORGEOUS compilation of songs.

Today the pouring rain trapped my little ones inside and they were sort of antsy.  And by 'sort of antsy' I mean, out of their minds antsy.  We did all the regular things to combat being stuck inside like lots of singing and dancing, but still their little bodies were wiggling and squiggling all over the place.

Until I put on that CD.

They were mesmerized, soothed even, by the music.  I played it quietly in the background and they settled in and even sang along.  It was like we'd taken a collective deep breath.  I looked around the room at my smiling, working, humming, singing little ones had one of those blessed teaching moments where I just stood still for a second and enjoyed being in their presence.

And so, I'm thinking maybe your life is busy like mine.  Maybe you are antsy about some things and are about to wiggle right out of your skin.  Maybe you need a moment of tranquility to stop and enjoy your life and the presence of those blessed to be in it with you.  Maybe you're like me, in need of a song to soothe your soul, to acquaint you with all that is good and pure and holy.

Here are my 10 favorites this year:

10. River by Sarah McLachlan. I wish I had a river I could skate away on.  Alas, ice skates+me=one very bad idea.  So I'll just have to listen to the song and dream.

9. The Holly and the Ivy by the Virginia Girls Choir and Ana Hernandez This one reminds me of high school choir, of singing at the Madrigal Dinner.  The members of the Virginia Girls Choir sing with such purity and innocence that it leaves me in awe.

8. The Night Before Christmas by Brandon Heath I love, love, love this one.  I usually have to listen to it several times in a row before I can move on to the next song.  So when you download this one and have to play it over and over again until your family throws things at you to make you stop, just remember I warned you.

7. Ring the Bells by Travis Cottrell featuring Natalie Grant Remember when I said you'd want to play that last one over and over again?  Well, multiply that by 100 for this one.  If you're feeling blue, this song is the cure.

6. Christmastime is Here by Vince Guaraldi Trio Just put on some feetsy pajamas and snuggle up under a blanket.  This one is an express train back to childhood.  Sit back and enjoy the ride.

5. Silent Night by Yo-Yo Ma I do not know how Yo-Yo Ma makes such rich sounds come out of his cello, but you will love this one by the lights of the tree.  You will love it in your car.  You will love it pouring out of your earbuds in the grocery store as the children behind you in line cry and scream.  You will smile at those children, even if they are your own children.  That's how great this song is.

4. What Child is This by Andrea Bocelli with Mary J. Blige Okay, get close because I'm going to tell you a little secret.  I don't even like this song. I'll probably get one of my Christian cards taken away for saying that, but I don't like this song.  At least I didn't like it until I heard this version of it.  Mary J. Blige will break your heart with her raw emotion and then Andrea Bocelli will put it back together again.

3. Winter Snow by Chris Tomlin featuring Audrey Assad From the piano solo at the beginning to Audrey Assad's earthy voice to the harmonies with Chris Tomlin, this song just wraps its arms around you.  If you need to be reminded of the gentleness of God, take a moment to close your eyes and let yourself fall in love with this song.

2. Breath of Heaven (Mary's Song) by Amy Grant As a kid I used to wonder what Mary was thinking with the Son of God, you know, gestating inside her and all of that.  Did she ever think maybe God should have picked someone else?  Did she ever feel alone because she was the chosen one?  This song is sung from Mary's perspective and I love it because I think maybe Mary wasn't so different than you and I.  Maybe sometimes she doubted herself, felt alone, and needed the very breath of heaven to help her keep it all together.

1. O Holy Night by Celine Dion Admittedly, I'm not a Celine Dion fan, but that girl can sing and when she sings my most favorite of all Christmas carols, everything else fades away.  This one gives me goosebumps and makes me cry every single time.  It's Terry's favorite, too, and let me tell you, when we sing this one in church we are a sight to behold, blubbering and singing and wiping our noses and dabbing at our eyes.  So grab a box of tissue and enjoy my most favorite of all Christmas carols:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Jr-2eyRtV4

What are your favorite songs of the season?

Five Golden Rings

Dear Gramma,

The other day when my little ones were lining up to go to lunch, I asked if they wanted to sing a Christmas song on the way to the cafeteria.  We sang Jingle Bells and then one of my little ones asked if we could sing "that one about the 12 things".

My voice caught in my throat and not a single word cracked out.

I stood thinking about singing The 12 Days of Christmas at your house and always hoping, wishing, crossing my fingers that I would get the card that said "Five Golden Rings".  It was my favorite line.  I could only imagine enough golden rings to slide on all the fingers of one hand.  I remember you singing that line in your best warbling Baptist church vibrato.  Your singing voice always made me giggle.

As I stood there watching my little ones pull their jackets on and grab their lunch boxes, I spun the gold ring on my right hand, the one my mom gave me from your trip to Greece together.  It is carved with the Greek symbol for eternity.  We walked to lunch singing and when we got to the part about the golden rings, I sang through the lump in my throat my voice trembling each time until I got to those four calling birds.

Christmas is a hard time to be apart from you.  The tree, the music, the decorations, the food-it all reminds me of you.  Those memories are so sweet.  And I'm thankful for all of them.  I just wish you were here to make more.

But then I turn the ring on my finger and remember that this season, when I am singing of the Christ come to Earth, you are singing with Him for eternity, singing in your best Baptist church vibrato.

I can't think of a sound I'd like to hear more.

Come sing to me in my dreams, Gramma.  Come sing to me about the Christ come to Earth.  Sing to me about eternity.  Sing to me about Heaven where five golden rings are a mere drop in the bucket.

Love,

Alicia

Thankful Thursday #1

I just couldn't give up writing down all I have to be thankful for.  So, I'm going to devote Thursdays to posting what I'm thankful for each week.

My friend, Bonnie, who has just started her 30 Days of Thanks, is partnering with me.  So every Thursday you can stop in and read my list and then click on over to her list.

I like to think of it as a double your pleasure, double your fun kind of thing.  Okay, that might be pushing it a little, but you get the point.

Without further ado, this week I'm thankful for...

• the opportunity to learn new things


• technology that facilitates meaningful instruction


• lunch with friends


• being asked to do writing inservice with my colleagues


• wicking gym clothes


• sandwiches


• tomato soup


• the scent of rain on asphalt


• online Christmas shopping


• packages in the mail


• my MacBook.  I just do not understand the mysterious PC.

What are you thankful for?  Share the love in the comments section.  :)

30 Days of Thanks: Day 30

As I was getting ready for work this morning, I realized today was the last official day of this challenge I set for myself.  And I gotta tell you, it's bittersweet.

When I started this challenge, I felt like I did a pretty decent job being thankful for the big things like God, my house, my loved ones, my job, food to eat, etc.  But I felt like I missed out on so many little opportunities to be grateful.

And so I set off on day 1 to find something small, something I would normally not even notice, to be be thankful for.  And a funny thing happened, I found lots of little things to be thankful for.

And I found that to be true the next day.

And the next day.

And even the day after that.

Pretty soon I found myself jotting things down throughout the day, chomping at the bit to come home and drop them into that day's list.  I'm sure that nasty, negative, unfair, ugly things happened all around me this month, but for the life of me I just can't think of a single one.  My brain space is filled with a jumble of wonderful things I'm just dying to list.

And so on the eve of a new month, it's not surprising to me that today's list is long.  After this month I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have so, so much to be thankful for.  And that giving thanks for something, no matter how small, has made a big difference in my life.

Today I'm thankful for...

• my hardworking husband


• productive work days


• warm jackets


• outside recess


• parent volunteers


• my sweet students who just wanted to write and write and write some more


• the senators who voted no today


• burritos


• blueberries


• chivalry


• a quiet house


• morning prayer


• Christmas music


• conversations with my mom


• singing with my class


• the book The Velveteen Rabbit, even though it makes me cry every December


• phrases my little ones write, like "clouds prickling in the sky"


• laughing so hard I cried

and last, but not least,

• you, dear reader.  You've been great company this month and I've loved hearing about all the things you have to be thankful for, too.