Been thinking about Christmas gifts. Not the kind under the tree or in stockings, but the kind that start with a light in the east. Today I’m alive, that’s a gift. I have two beautiful children who are healthy and happy and that’s a gift. I have a husband who loves me and thinks I’m the greatest writer on the planet. That’s a huge gift. I am one year into the novelist career I’ve always wanted, an amazing gift.
My little toddler runs over to bend down and kiss her baby sister when she sees her, and I know that at less than three years old she already knows how to give the gifts that matter.
Part of me really misses being a yuppie. I admit it. But I also remember that during that yuppie time of my life, I didn’t have all the gifts that matter most to me now. Some of the most important gifts aren’t found wrapped in bright paper. They start with a light in the east.
Wishing you and yours a season of light, filled with enduring gifts.
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