(This post is a response to this writing prompt from first50.com. I suggest checking the site out. Highly recommended.)

“So sorry” delivered with a sarcastic tone. That’s all she had to say for herself when I asked her if she really loved him. Well, those two words preceded with “Yes.”

It’s funny how two little words can just rip your heart out when delivered one way, yet be so comforting when delivered differently.

(This is in response to the writing prompt at First 50 Words for 12/15/07)

I remember Christmas as a child. Well, even more that just as a child, but all the way through my teenage years, into college and early adulthood. Christmas was great. I loved the Christmas season. Yes, as a small child this often meant I loved it because of the gift potential. But the older I got, the more I loved it for the experience.

Christmas was a time to get away from the world. There was always a long break from school and the days started to run into each other. Even after college I would still somehow manage to get time off at Christmas, typically the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day, so I could travel home and have that same feeling of time shifting and stresses of this world going away.

I am the youngest of four. As my older siblings grew up and left home, they would come home to visit on the holidays. In later years meant bringing their spouses and children. There were always lots of people around the house. There were hours spent on playing games, watching movies, and generally just spending time together. Yes, there were always gifts, and several package opening times as people would arrive a day or two after the actual day, but that wasn’t the best part. The best part was the time where we just got to hang out together. Eating my mother’s cooking. Spending time with my dad in his workshop. Going with my dad, after he had retired, to the “Grumpy Old Men Coffee Club” at the local coffee shop. I absolutely loved Christmas.

Please don’t misunderstand this, though. The focus of Christmas in my family was definitely the birth of the Savior. This wasn’t just an excuse for the family to spend time together. We absolutely knew and celebrated the “reason for the season”. And part of that was the great times we had together as a family.

I don’t get nearly as excited about Christmas anymore. About 10 years ago, my mother died. And a few years later, my dad died. They both had long, fruitful lives, and were married over 50 years. But without them and their home in my small hometown, Christmas just doesn’t seem the same. Everyone here in the city is always in such a rush. We never seem to get everything done before the 24th. I guess with no deadlines like having to leave on a particular day to get home in time for Christmas, things get pushed back until the very last minute. Somehow that relaxation I felt over Christmas in the past is gone. I still take the time off of work, and still get to sleep late, cook a big breakfast for my wife and myself, go to movies, hang out, play games, and all that other fun stuff, but the complete decompression never really seems to get here.

My sister lives in a small town near the city where I live. Her children are grown now and have children of their own. This year my wife and I are spending Christmas Day at their house, watching small children open gifts and play with new toys, eating good food, playing games, and laughing together. The other day my sister and I talked about gifts and decided not to get gifts for each other. The best possible gift this Christmas is a chance to have that old Christmas feeling again. I am actually excited about it. For the first time in several years.

Heavenly Father, as we prepare for the arrival of Your Son, our Savior, please help us feel the joy You mean for us to feel at this time of the year and always. And please help us share that joy with those around us that may not have any joy in their life. In Your Name we pray, Amen.

The other day as I waited in my car for the ice to thaw on the windshield, I looked out the passenger window to my right. My neighbor has a magnolia tree in his yard next to my driveway. On the trunk of that tree was a woodpecker.

He wasn’t pecking. He was checking holes that he or some other woodpecker had already pecked for any new prey that might have shown up. I’m not sure how successful he was, because once my car thawed out and I put the transmission in reverse, he flew away. About that time I wished I’d had my camera with me to grab a picture of him before he flew away. He was absolutely beautiful.

I live in a part of the country that rarely gets below freezing. Birds come here in the winter to hang out, or at least stop by here on their way further south. As I sat there and watched that woodpecker I wondered how confused he must be. Confused about the cold. Confused about where his dinner was. After all, he’s not used to all this ice around here. He may not realize that makes all the bugs dig in deeper – deeper in the ground or deeper in the tree. I hope he found something to eat.