As I glanced out my front door and caught sight of frost-covered pumpkins sitting next to cedar cuttings ready to be turned into wreaths, I realized that this holiday season, my favorite, has surely snuck up on me. In our little, unincorporated town, where Dairy Queen is the social hub (true story and I love it!), we've experienced the most beautiful Christmas season that we've known as a family. Last week, we woke up to eight perfect inches of snow that transformed our home into a scene straight out of a magazine.
Over the next few days, we took our time trimming our home and the tree, adding tidbits to it every day or so, its main decoration our favorite photos from the year, printed in black and white, strung all over. And I've come to realize that this season, the one that makes my throat catch hard as I relive all of the memories hanging on our tree, as I see the pure delight of Christmas in my boys, as I live out each day taking in the graces of these moments-- it's beautiful because it reminds me of all that is here and all that has been given to me. The now. The gifts of today. Even though our decorations are small in number, they weigh heavy on my heart scale. I hope it stays that way.