I didn't put up a tree this year. For the last couple of years, the cats (the boys, I think) have confused the tree skirt for a litter box and I just couldn't deal with it this year.
So these wreaths had to do for Christmas decorations.
Much safer, with the evergreens up off the floor.
And I had a crazy performance schedule this December. I played for lots and lots and lots of events the first two weeks of the month, and then had nothing to play for until Christmas Eve. Not a single party, church service or happy hour. It was odd, strange, empty. I paced a lot. Finally, I called my Mom and asked, "What should I do for two weeks in December if I'm not playing the harp?"
"Bake cookies and wrap presents like normal people," she replied. Normal people. I haven't been a normal person in December since I got a harp 23 years ago.
Finally, Christmas Eve arrived. The service wasn't until 7:00 p.m., so I did have time for some present wrapping during the day. (The baking? Yeah, read about that fiery disaster in a future post...) I polished up the harp, put on a pretty dress, warmed up the truck and...
...ahhhh. The harpist finally had a purpose
in December.
I played mostly by the light of these trees.
In a full-circle story, this church was where I played my very first Christmas Eve service, many many many many years ago. I remember that night they turned off all the lights when it came time to sing Silent Night for the candle lighting, so a beautiful little girl came forward with her candle and knelt beside me so I could see my music. It's one of my favorite Christmas memories of all time. And that girl's mother became my dear friend.
The magic of Christmas Eve. I hope yours was wonderful, too.
Beautiful post, my sweet friend. The little girl in that story loves you dearly, as does her mother. Thank you for the gift of your beautiful, healing music - and - for the gift of your warm, wonderful friendship.
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