The Afterglow of Christmas

I just finished cleaning the floor in both the bathroom and kitchen. Hands-and-knees style. Santa dropped the ball on a new mop this year (ours broke a few months ago). Oops - forgot. I'm Santa. Guess that tells you where my priorities lie. However, it did feel good to do some physical work, especially after a long and blissful holiday break that involved a lot of chocolate, turkey and sitting on the couch.

Speaking of the holidays - wow. Talk about a different Christmas/New Years. In a previous post I mention ways I would make this holiday extra special since we would be far from family. I was semi-successful. I tried. I really did. But I found my efforts were thwarted due to lack of sleep, fussy baby, etc. etc. And then, when I had the chance to be serviceable, I was rejected or it didn't work out. I swallowed my frustration and waited for the next chance. I think the highlight for me was the Wednesday before Christmas. I desperately wanted to go caroling at a nursing home, a tradition that began with my family when I was young. Naturally, I waited until the day before to call around to the three nursing homes in town and one was available or didn't have a scheduled program. Then I texted everyone who I thought was in town from the ward and two families were able to join ours. One has three kids and the other has two. We were quite the bunch of carolers. I had selected some songs - a mix of spiritual and secular - and printed them out.

The nursing home had three separate buildings. We began at one, per the request of the coordinator to whom I spoke when I set things up. Luckily, a few residents were still around in the living/entertainment area and we started to sing. The look in their eyes was unforgettable. They sang along to "Away in a Manger," "Jolly Old St. Nicholas" and "Silent Night." My voice caught a few times as I watched their faces.

The folks in the second building were more interested in the children, but in the third building, no one was out, so we went from room to room. One of the last people we sang to was a woman who had just moved from Powell, Wyo. I may be wrong, but I doubted that she had family in the area. Or maybe she did. Whatever the case was, I felt that we made her night special. Ruby Reno was her name.

We left that night in the falling snow with warm hearts. We said our "Merry Christmases" and went home.

The next few days we spent as a family and read of the Savior and of His birth. It was a beautiful, simple Christmas. My mind drifted across the country to South Dakota and my wonderful family there, but my heart was also held steady with my husband and little one. I hope your Christmas was just as memorable.