"The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes."
This blessed morning I a woke to the sense that something exciting was going to happen. You know, that Christmas anticipation...After Terr, Kate, Jeremy and I dressed and poured ourselves cups of coffee or wassail, we settled into the first gift of Christmas morning. I presented Kate with a CD I made of our beautiful Cashes Valley. We sat as if in a Silent Night and watched with nostalgic wonder at the familiar beauty. If you would like to see it, I will leave the unedited copy here for you to enjoy a peaceful moment with what Kate and I have in our hearts.
Afterwards we sat out the Christmas Morning casseroles, the traditional Sister Shubert's sweet rolls and pigs in a blanket, turned down the wassail and went into the candlelit Christmas room. Two gifts, three gifts, only a few gifts were exchanged between the four of us when we got the call that my mother was in the hospital. We decided sadly that Christmas in Murfreesboro was going to be postponed until we could get her back home to share it with us.
It wasn't long until I was surrounded by all six of my children, their spouses and significant others, all nine of my grandchildren, my daughter-in-law's mom (and my good friend), and along with them the love of family that multiplies joy and divides sorrow. They took the heaviness of my first Christmas away from my own mother in 61 years and blessed me with the hope of Christmas. No wonder the baby didn't cry in that manger - he was warmed from the cold of that night by great love.
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This morning (the day after Christmas), Kate, Kristin and the boys are still sleeping, Jeremy is lovingly working on my computer, Terr is sitting across from me in our office on his computer, finding out the weather for me, as I am writing this before leaving for Murfreesboro to be with Mom...but first I will sneak a kiss from the sleepyheads, being so grateful for the time shared.
When my mother and father were apart from each other, he wrote her every day and always ended his letters with WAP (whisper a prayer). I am asking you too to WAP for Mom.