What a beautiful morning to be alive! Here on the high desert, the word is covered in white. VST always laughed when I would ask him to stop and listen to the snow fall. We were new to Virginia City where the snow falls in feet, not inches. He would always be quick to correct me, never understanding my point. Sometimes silence is the loudest sound of all. It was okay. Sometimes people are tone-deaf to the sound of snowfall.
In my humble opinion, the sound of falling snow is the most lovely sound of all. Regular noises are cushioned and become a little more muted. It seems life slows down and it’s easy to focus on the smallest of details in those falling flakes. Exquisite art work from heaven, snowflakes are. Next time, listen carefully. Falling snow does have the sweetest sound.
So many beautiful things happened to finish out 2022, my year of miracles. In my life, I’ve not experienced such a beautiful year in a very long time. In 2022, I continued my awakening into a brand new woman. It was no coincidence that miracles overflowed during my first year after baptism. No coincidence, at all.
Christmas Eve started as a regular day. My Mysterious Marine and Wookie had been busy with errands and Christmas secrets. Each day the presents multiplied under the Jolly tree, beautiful in every way. But, it was the outside of his house where his talents shone. With 3,000 twinkling lights, his house was the most lovely on the block. Each string was hung with precision, making his presentation of lights one not to miss. I would imagine his house was visible from space. We just haven’t heard yet.
Plans were in place for a festive seafood extravaganza with family, followed by the annual Candlelight Ceremony at The Chapel. Everyone in MM’s entire family are amazing cooks, but this dinner was over the top. Lobster, Alaskan King Crab, Scallops, Jumbo Shrimp, and broiled French bread were on the menu. Each bite was mind-blowing, leaving us satisfied and ready to head to The Chapel at 6 pm.
Even in our mindfulness and haste, we entered the sanctuary as the music had already started. Although very few seats were available, two were open at the very front of the room, waiting for a couple like us.
The room was packed with regulars and visitors. Everyone had come to worship on the most holy of nights. It isn’t very often that Christmas falls on a Sunday. In fact, the next time that will happen is in 11 years. 2033. Hmmmmm. 2033. Two thousand years after the death of Jesus. Exactly 2000 years later. Coincidence?
Just like that, we were singing Christmas hymns of our past. I was transported back to a little German church in the middle of a sea of grapevines. A church built by relatives long ago gone to a better place. A bright blonde girl in a handmade dress with her severe straight bangs always cut way too short doing her best not to cause trouble in church. Fidgeting little feet in new black patent leathers were lost in the sea of sisters that made up her family. Farmers scrubbed, groomed were dressed in their once-a-year suits, singing nervously with the farmer families of the little church. Memories of Christmas in the 1900’s came flooding into my mind.
In the other front row seat, MM was having similar thoughts of days in our little desert town. The one in which he grew up into a man. Days when there were barely 2,000 residents who knew every last thing the oldest brother of five was doing before he did it. I can only imagine the cuteness overload of five brothers, 10 and under. I can only imagine the stress of taking those five boys to Christmas service. That oldest brother of five turned into the Marine, successful man, and now the gentleman holding my hand while tearing up to his own sweet memories of Christmas past.
This magical evening was one of the most beautiful of my life. 150 Christmas dinners were delivered by this magical group of people. A new crop of littles fidgeted as they waited for the service to end, so that Christmas could proceed. Everyone there to celebrate with Christmas love.
Towards the end of the service, the chapel was darkened while the pastor lit one candle from the alter. He came to the front row as he shared his flame with us. It was our job to light the candle of another. While I lit just a couple of other candles, MM was gone for a very long time. With 100 people at the service, it took a minute to share the light with everyone.
Finally, MM came back.
Leaning over, he quietly whispered, “I shared my light with so many.”
I smiled.
MM’s light is brilliant. He’s always ready to serve and protect, something a Marine never, ever forgets to do. It’s in their blood.
The beautiful memories of that night will remain in my heart. Almost like the sound of falling snow, it’s there for to hear. Some say there is no sound at all. But, once you hear it, your soul won’t forget.
Whatever you do today, go light someone’s candle. Do something unexpectedly kind. The smallest deeds count. Remember it’s the little things in the day that are truly magical. Keep celebrating! Our year is brand new and rich with possibilities.
More tomorrow.