The softly falling snow....

brought the cloudy morning light.  It is almost Solstice.  As I watched the light grow today and the snow falling, I listened to old choirs singing old Christmas songs and I remembered.

I remembered the wonderful feeling of Christmas in Germany with the snow thick on the ground, the forests standing silently in the cold, the castles simply decorated with boughs of greenery and red ribbons.  The peacefulness of those Christmases is in my heart amidst the garish displays of my own country's conspicuous consumption glitzy idea of Chrtistmas. 

I remembered that one and only Christmas where I spent Christmas Eve and Day with my cousins.  The giggling the night before and the snow on the ground resonated deep within me.  The infectious excitement of the season and sharing that excitement with other children my own age was intoxicating.  We ran down the noisy wooden stairs at the crack of light Christmas morning to open presents.  The snow lay beyond the wrap-around porch and the parents came down sleepy-eyed and smiling.  I remember playing in the snow later that day and having the time of my life.  I never stayed with those cousins again until my other Uncle's funeral when I was 16. My parents divorced, we were poor, and when they got married again, we traveled with the military so I didn't get to see my cousins.  It was always just me and my brother until I was 12 and then it was brothers, plural.  That Christmas stands out in my mind so clear as though it were yesterday. 

I remembered the one  Christmas Eve when I was 13 or 14 and my parents were back together and we were stationed at Ft. Huachuca, Arizona. For some reason, we chose to go to the post Chapel for their candelight ceremony instead of to the Assembly of God church off base.  The post Chapel was designed more like the old Lutheran churches in Europe though less ornate.  It was a beautiful, quiet, contemplative and  wonderful ceremony.  The high ceiling echoed with the soft hymns of Christmas and each person passed the flame from candle to candle.  The lights went out and we raised our candles as the Light of Christ's love and compassion that flooded the church that night.  Then we spilled out of the church, symbolically spreading that love and compassion light out to the world.  Everyone felt so together, welcome, cheerful, and peaceful.

 Many years later my husband and I took our then three daughters to a local Lutheran church for their candlelight ceremony on Christmas Eve.  I was so uncomfortable because instead of that welcoming feeling of being included, people stared at us, they talked to each other,  and no one introduced themselves.  Their exclusivity was apallingly apparent;  so different from the inclusion I felt at the post Chapel where everyone included everyone else because in the military, people come and go all the time so being exclusive doesn't work.  What a sad difference it was to be so excluded and to feel so left out.  We went through the motions of the ceremony but it felt hollow and dead for us.  I cried because my kids would not have that feeling that night that I had.

As I  think back on the Christmases past in my life, I think of so many moments that brought the love, caring, and  peaceful contemplation;   I miss being with people who include and have compassion,   people who don't judge, people who love and share and are warm and inviting. 
I miss those kinds of people.  Where are they?  Are they only to be found on military bases then? 

For me, Christmas is about quiet carols, snow, twinkling lights, baking treats, candles glowing softly, the laughter of children, the prayers for peace, the happy joy of giving and sharing, the momnents of real compassion and hope, the singing of fun and sacred songs, and the hugs we give. 

It is time to bring back the light of Love and Compassion and what better time than the Return of the Light on Solstice? 

Join me in spreading the inclusion, the caring, the gentle touch of help and acceptance, the smile that brings hope.  Somewhere, someone like me is feeling that empty space because they don't have that inclusion and they desire it with all their hearts.