Quiet Christmas

 

Our second Christmas since moving back to Maine…last year we were still swimming in boxes (not that they’re all unpacked now) and seemed to skim through the holiday.  This year it felt like we were truly home.

Earlier this month, after a few inches of snow, we stomped out into the woods and cut down a small balsam fir, perhaps 3 feet tall. Walking out onto our own land for a tree speaks volumes about why I like living in my small  Maine town.  There are hints of self-sufficiency and thrift,  along with a dose of environmental sustainability. I’ve come to love this little natural tree with its simple ornaments, standing in a planter of dirt and rocks. It seems we have a new tradition.

We awakened on Christmas Eve to a steady snowfall which continued all day. Our plans to drive to Bar Harbor and sing in our church choir that night were nixed. I missed that service very much, but we had a celebration right at home by listening to King’s College Service of Lessons and Carols. Hearing those familiar scripture passages paired with beautiful music was all I needed.

A lovely sense of peace enveloped me on Christmas Day. We were snowbound. With nowhere to go and nothing we had to do, we sat by the woodstove with a pot of tea, listening to carols, writing a few Christmas cards and eating a simple meal. Heaven.

Our quiet Christmas ended with another new tradition of hosting a dinner party on Boxing Day. I was ready to straighten the house, set a beautiful table and cook up a storm.  Several close friends and 2 dogs arrived for a lively time of good food and conversation. I felt blessed, in our farmhouse on the ridge.