Still

The big bulb Christmas lights reflected in a Swanson’s tin potpie pan behind it are now replaced with soft white twinklers that come with the fold out tree. No more cookies and milk for Santa but the smells of freshly baked banana bread and apple pie late on Christmas Eve fill the house in preparation for tomorrow. Writing of Christmas cards sealed with tuberculosis lick and stick seals mailed with a three cent stamp gone forever, inflated to overpriced cards and a forty-nine cent stamp. Turkey and ham dinners still richly enjoyed, but modern cooks like fancy recipes, or grill meat on the barby. No more wire telegrams or expensive long distance phone calls from relatives; contemporary cell phones make those connections for pennies. Black and white photos taken in advance now streamlined in color via Skype images or cell cameras posting in nano seconds for all the world to see. But the presents are still the same, brightly wrapped under the tree, exciting the children or the kid in the adults, and the best gift of all is still available and free.  Love came down on Christmas, softly, quietly in the night He arrived, under the stars of two thousand years ago, today the same ones, and His presence still graces mankind, ready to comfort the mournful or depressed, carry the weary, and bless those who want Him. I love the first Christmas story the most, still here, vivid and wonderful as ever.

Merry Christmas all!