Every Day Life: Snapshots of Christmas

By Lara

[Editor's Note: Lara wrote a fabulous post two weeks ago about trying to come up with something creative to write for her Christmas letter to her family and friends. Here is the rest of the story.]

A little girl in a yellow nightgown sits on her knees smiling at someone in the background. The frost has laced the window behind her with intricate fragile swirls. The early morning light brushes against her golden locks. Spread out on the floor, scattered amongst crumpled red wrappings, are pieces to a building set. Bright colored sticks with tiny plastic connectors. She is building a tower. It will be the tallest tower that she's ever built - taller than she is. Her eyes sparkle and her cheeks glow. Her father helps her reach higher and higher. Her mother takes pictures of this favorite gift the girl will almost remember that she loved.

*****

The sound reverberates around the cold brick building. The hum - the buzz - the bells - the song. Silent night. Her eyes are closed. The carol rings in her ears and warms her. Holy night. Fifty tiny flames dance and flicker in the midnight air. All is calm. Hot wax drips onto little paper candle rings. All is bright. The people on either side of her move closer - raise their hearts and voices in harmony. Round yon virgin mother and child. Her own melody forms soft wisps of cheerful frost. Holy infant so tender and mild. Frozen tears tickle her eyelashes. Sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace.

*****

He sniffs the air. He stalks over to the half decorated tree. For a moment, the room is still. He jumps. The Christmas tree shivers and shakes causing the women on the sofa to erupt into boisterous laughter. One end of the garland drags on the ground. The string of lights is tangled beyond hope on the floor. The angel is precariously perched on the topmost branch. From the middle of the tree comes a large white paw to poke at an ornament. Poke. Smack. Crash. The tree jumps then stands motionless once again. The grey striped cat stretches out on the satin skirting to lick his tail. The women wipe their eyes on their sleeves.

*****

She snuggles between her parents who are propped against pillows on the floor. They smell warm - comforting like spice cookies and soap. Everything in the house is dark and still except the tree. The lights sparkle and flash - a collection of stars from distant galaxies temporarily housed in her living room. Her father recites the Christmas story for them aloud. She is half asleep and happy. The familiar words wash over and through her forming shapes and faces in her imagination. Angels, shepherds, mangers, stables, Mary, Joseph, baby Son. Light has come into the world and hearts of men.

*****

A pain gradually grows stronger in her right shoulder. She's mixing a sixth batch of cookie dough. Peanut butter blossoms. Unwrapped Hershey kisses sit in a platter on the counter. Her friends are chattering and hopping around the tiny kitchen like birds. Snippets of music drift through the house. Blobs of dough disappear. Racks of cookies are cooling in the snow on the porch. Cabinet doors are being opened and closed. Flour dust lingers in the air. Recipes are shuffled from table to counter to person to stove and back. Hot buttery smells pour from the oven with each ring of the timer. Platters and trays filled with Christmas snacks are stacked wherever there is room.

*****

People jostle her on every side just to catch a glimpse of the ice skaters spinning and twirling below. Rockefeller Center at Christmas. Her face is frozen and cracked. Her fingers are numb. Her feet are sore. She keeps familiar faces in sight lest she be lost in a sea of strangers. She tries to take it all in. The sights, the smells, the feeling of excitement. The angels are decorated with white lights and holly. Street venders are peddling hotdogs and pretzels, sausage and coffee. Phrases in unfamiliar languages waft in and out among the other conversations of the crowd. She is swept away - off to find Lord and Taylor's infamous window display.

*****

A living nativity. She is relieved to be in the audience instead of the cast or crew. She takes photos of her friend with a goat nibbling his shoes. He glares at her from under his hood. She chuckles. Meeting familiar faces and family - chatting - laughing - drinking hot chocolate. She pulls her scarf up over her ears and keeps her face warm with her breath. Neighborhood dogs bark frantically at the cows and camels, sheep and goats. Cars slow down so people can stare at the pageant. Children's faces plastered against windows. Barely controlled chaos in the middle of December.

*****

She drives past that house four times a week. Tinsel and wreaths and lighting like mad. Manger scenes. Santa sets. Snowmen and elves. Each time she drives by there are more ornaments on the lawn. Toy soldiers and reindeer and snow globes and Snoopy. She rolls her eyes and sighs. Tacky Christmas to me. Then she sees the alien. Standing between baby Jesus and Rudolph. She puts her foot on the brake to slow the car to a crawl. An alien? She blinks. An alien. What does an alien have anything to do with Christmas or winter or any holiday EVER? She is confused and distressed and vows to pay less attention to her passionate annoyances to focus more on her own enjoyment of the season.

*****

She wonders to herself during the prayer, "If Grandpop sits at the head of the table, does Grandmother sit at the foot? No. The feet are underneath. Hmm." Her family begins their Christmas dinner. Plates are passed. Tales exchanged. Snouts of dogs poke out from under the tablecloth hoping the smaller cousins will drop more than just peas. After the meal, her grandfather gets out his trusty screen on a tripod. Aunts, uncles, cousins all gather around for a family slideshow. She gets a seat close to the tree. Their tree is always different. Somehow her grandparents manage to have a tree that looks like them. She likes to touch the tree and look at the old family ornaments. Maybe she can convince someone to go sledding with her after desert.

*****

If they're late, all the good sesame crackers will be gone. She slips towards the door with her fellow employees. Her holly and candy cane headband bounces and sways. After procuring snacks and a cola, she notices that her favorite cross-section of co-workers has assembled at her table. She settles herself down to eat amazing crackers and mediocre chicken, to listen to a myriad of Christmassy tunes, and to have an amazing time making fun of tipsy people on the dance floor. It was totally worth the twenty dollars she spent on the ticket to goof off and have the rest of the afternoon free. Everyone loves a good office Christmas party, but only she can really appreciate the average ones.

Lara works for the Department of Defense. She would tell you more, but then she'd have to hunt you down and, well, you know... She enjoys spending time with friends, building sand castles on the beach in winter and going on international adventures. Lara and Beth M. were the brains behind our fun series on the Year of the Birthday. We are thankful they have decided to continue the fun with the Bucket List and Every Day Life.