I remember many a PM boo-hoo on December 25th when I was a young'un. Too much build-up and excitement about the whole Santa thing that when it was all over and cleaned up, I crumbled into a pile of disappointment that it was so far away again. Magic..that's what it is to a child. You (try to) be good for a few days and even if you screw up, you know for sure that Santa Claus will deliver the goods whether you have a chimney or not. You believe.

White Christmases in West Tennessee are pretty rare. I remember once my Daddy took advantage of the white stuff to drag a lawn chair over the snow to make sleigh tracks for us! Hmm..made us think. We always stayed up to watch the ten o'clock news so we could see the Santa sighting on the weather radar. Usually didn't sleep too well afterwards :) Anticipation is the best part of the holiday season to some folks, including me. I don't get all tangled up in the details of shopping and stuff because, frankly, I can't afford it. I'm doing well to keep the utility bill paid right now. Babygirl understands because she lives it with me. She remembers all of the childhood years when she woke up to the loot feeling all warm and fuzzy. These days, we're just happy to be together as a family for another season. I remember when she was little, but big enough to understand, we bundled under the covers and pulled out the bible to read the story together of what it's all about. Even then it was all about taxes and hardships. Maybe that's why the miracle is all the more special.

I called my little friend Robert the other night to see what color icing he wanted on his cookies. "Bwue!" he exclaimed. Very retro....blue Christmas trees. I'm sure he forgot about it ten seconds later and kept on barrelling his way through the joys of being a four year old. A few minutes ago the phone rang and when I answered I heard this little voice say "Hey Poopie!" He had called to tell me thanks for the cookies. And that he got "just what he wanted."

Yep...I believe.