And Christmas Was

And Christmas was the sweet breath of sleeping children, and the hush of the Eve as presents were softly placed under the tree.

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Christmas was the knot of excitement upon waking, the sheer bliss on their faces, the squeals, and their joy being as complete as mine.

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Christmas was the chopping of potatoes, the stuffing of a bird, and the snapping of beans.

Christmas was the sore throat, the sore bones, and the sore head all mashed together like a sludgy gravy across the long days.

Christmas was the over-cooked turkey, the wrong ham, the bitter fruit, and the forgotten salad on the table.

Christmas was the drunkenness of plum pudding, the absurdity of trifle, the audacity of the cheese platter, and the sanctity of  Christmas cake.

Christmas was the importance of family, the visit of dear ones, and the missing of missed ones.

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Christmas was the nostalgia for better days, the remembering of sadder days, and then a gentle sense of levelling back to where we began.

Christmas was the reflection on the tragic, the thoughts for the lonely, and the aching for troubled hearts all over the earth.

Christmas was the burn of indigestion, the sink-full of dishes, and the precarious puzzle of leftovers in the fridge.

Christmas was the stillness of the breath taken, the stopping of trying to please everyone, the chance for blinking naps on the couch.

Christmas was the noisy toys, the treasured toys, the scattered toys, and the patience of a father teaching his children to ride their first bikes.

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Christmas was the anger of neighbours, the short fuse between spouses, and the tensions all fizzing up like a shaken bottle of apple cider.

Christmas was the gestures of forgiveness, the mending of walls, and the touching of hands in the silence.

Christmas was the cute giggly dinosaur boy, the kissing of his warm cheeks, and the inhaling of every drop of innocence.

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Christmas was the broken plates, the broken lives, the realisation that we’re nowhere closer to where we want to be, and the wondering if we’ll ever get there.

Christmas was the crashing down of another year, the epiphany of reality, the epic proportions of our battle, and the secret life we tuck away at night.

Christmas was the twinkle of fairy lights on trees, and the wish that they would adorn our hearts and set us alight with fragments of hope.

And Christmas was the hint of a promise, the conspiracy to endure, the harbinger of courage, and the whisper of a sunrise urging the fresh possibility of a new day.



  1. says

    Oh joyous, chaotic, a little bit sore and raw, and this, to which probably the whole world could (or should) relate: “Christmas was the nostalgia for better days, the remembering of sadder days, and then a gentle sense of levelling back to where we began.”
    Naomi Bulger recently posted..Lovely lettersMy Profile

  2. says

    Christmas is such a double edged sword isn’t it?

    In the days after Christmas this year I have been reflecting as to why the last three Christmases have been the best ones I’ve had since being a child. I have come to the conclusion that the key ingredient has been me… I’m different.

    Love light and strength lovely xxx
    Vicky recently posted..A stranger broke my veneerMy Profile

  3. says

    Aaahhh Deb, this time of year is so perplexing, as you have put it so well. I love it and I hate it. It makes me so very sad, and so joyously happy; refreshed and exhausted. I guess we enjoy it for what it is – a massive, crazy challenge, or just do it differently.

    Happy New Year to you and cannot wait to see you again soon.xx
    Kate @ Our Little Sins recently posted..Things I’m loving…My Profile

  4. says

    So many points to ponder, so many I can relate to, so much I’d love to comment, your words always start many thought processes in me Deb.

    But this one in particular “Christmas was the crashing down of another year, the epiphany of reality, the epic proportions of my battle, and the secret life I tuck away at night.” I can relate to.
    We have two very different battles Deb, let’s hope the new year will be one where we both banish our demons and where our truest selves become strong enough to shine for the outside world to see.
    Sara recently posted..Pregnant daze – A preamble to my kids’ birth storiesMy Profile

    • Deb says

      Oh Sara… yes we are friends because we understand each other’s battles, and I am so grateful for that. Let’s keep battling together! And THANK YOU for such a spot-on comment. xx

  5. Jeanette says

    “Christmas was the crashing down of another year, the epiphany of reality, the epic proportions of my battle, and the secret life I tuck away at night.”… Ah Deb this resonates so clearly with me.

    Reminds me of the quote attributed to Plato:
    “be kind for everyone you know is fighting a hard battle”

    Wishing you grace and peace xx

    • Deb says

      What a lovely wish, Jeanette – and I wish it for you too. I love that Plato quote, one of my favourites – I have it on my fridge… in fact have made it from a pic I made myself (in my ‘tea room’ page). xx

  6. says

    We had a restful Christmas day but somehow I still felt exhausted by Boxing Day. And I struggle with the generosity of gift giving versus mass consumerism at this time of year. And simplicity versus gluttony. So many Christmas contrasts and you’ve captured them beautifully. x

    • Deb says

      Gill! Been thinking of you. Christmas is exhausting no matter what, isn’t it? I think its the year coming to an end and finally crescendo-ing (just made up that word). I struggle with those things too. I hear you. xx

  7. says

    The best post I have read about Christmas, the magic mixed with the reality makes for strange bedfellows at times, you have captured this beautifully in your post

    Loved reading this. Happy New Year :)
    Sharron recently posted..Merry ChristmasMy Profile


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