Midnight Mass was beautiful.
The ride home was beautiful, also.
It was snowing lightly. The long
curving, country road was barely lit by the Christmas lights, decorating
homes. We didn't need the radio because
the nuns’ voices were still singing in our minds.
Our world was quiet, at peace.
Until morning…all hell broke loose. My adult son refused to wake up. I couldn't find his girlfriend’s present; but
it’ll show up. We won’t see her until
this weekend, so I don’t need it right now.
My granddaughter didn't understand why Santa gave her two of
something. My son’s cat had ripped some
presents looking for her presents (She smelled catnip). My camera’s battery was low. And my oven is a mess because my 20 year old
roasting pan had a tiny leak in it. I
was wondering what the drip/hiss/sizzle sound was.
Time for quiet meditation—Ignatian style. I’m Mary.
You’d think Joseph would have enough sense to make
reservations.
These animals stink.
It’s cold outside and I’ve a newborn.
All I want to do is rest and everybody and their uncle have come to gawk.
What am I supposed to do with gold, frankincense, and myrrh?
I need diapers!
These animals stink.
It’s cold outside and I’ve a newborn.
All I want to do is rest and everybody and their uncle have come to gawk.
What am I supposed to do with gold, frankincense, and myrrh?
I need diapers!
I want my mommy!
