I sent out 36 Christmas cards this year. So far I've received two. I know the season's not over and I'm not the only one running behind. I never expect anywhere close to the number I send. But... two? I advertised my open house, but I don't know if anyone other than Amy and Craig will stop by. So I'm having trouble getting motivated on the cleaning and shopping and planning. I haven't baked any cookies at all. I'm not sure if I'm doing any of these things for others, or for myself. If no one else cares, and I'm not into it, why am I even bothering?
Christmas spirit has a way of slipping in past negativity, though. I know that one of my cards brightened someone's day. If I made a difference, no matter how small, then it's worthwhile. Amy's hairdresser asked her about the cookies.
I still believe in the magic of Christmas. When I come downstairs on Christmas morning, I'm holding my breath to see if Santa filled my stocking. I believe I'm going to get kissed under the mistletoe. I hope someone unexpected will stop by to see me. It doesn't matter that I haven't hung a stocking or so much as seen mistletoe in close to ten years. The hope and anticipation doesn't go away. And every year, there's something special and surprising and beautiful at Christmastime.
So, this year, even if I'm struggling, I'm sticking with it. The magic's still there. I just have to hang in there and let it happen.