Memories . . .

“‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thru the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse …” Do you recall that verse attributed to Clement Clarke Moore? I’m quite sure there was usually at least one mouse in our basement. Heaven knows my mother was always putting out mouse traps. In my childhood home, it was always made very clear that Santa Clause was a concept, not a real person, albeit that the concept was likely based on a real person. Nevertheless, that never seemed to diminish the magic, especially during the years we lived amidst a great deal of snow! Relatives on both sides of my family tree often went to late evening or mid-night community or church service, listening to the music of the season, drinking in the colorful lights and candles, and hearing once again the familiar stories and poems. It was also a time of reflection. Every year some would be missing from the group, their having died during the past twelve months. Sometimes we would put a place-card at the table in their honor or at least reminisce about them, being reminded that we can choose to carry each in our hearts and minds. Good memories. “…and to all a good night.”