December was magical. The snow showed up a few days before Christmas. Del had a Christmas dance recital for parents and siblings. Lincoln performed trombone songs at Christmas Party Talent Show put on by friends. Ivan painstakingly painted pictures and drew comic strips to give as gifts. We saw the Festival of Lights. We baked ginger bread and watched the First Presidency Christmas Devotional. The kids put on and pulled off snow clothes more times than I can count. Christmas trees were knocked over. There were Muddy Buddies and A Christmas Story. There was homemade eggnog and It's A Wonderful Life. Neighbor gifts were delivered. Presents were wrapped and precariously stacked on top of bookcases to keep toddlers out. The ward Christmas Choir sang beautifully while I wrestled two toddlers, a four-year-old, and an eight-year-old by myself on the back row; but it was worth it because Adelia was glowing with pride at her performance. Fires were built in the wood stove. A Bethlehem dinner was prepared. The Nativity story reenacted. Hymns were played on the piano and trombone. The Spirit was present. Jammies were opened and kids tucked in. And then there was a Christmas tree in a dark room. The lights were twinkling. And all was quiet, peaceful, and still.
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