Go Tell It On The Mountain

Alright, so at work today, I was bitten by the vermin of Holiday Cheer. 
I'm not sure how many people know this, but I used to LOVE Christmas. I didn't care so much for the gifts, or the money or any of that sort of stuff. I loved sneaking out the back door of my bedroom and sneaking down the spiraling staircase that ran behind my bedroom (which we didn't know existed until we realized my bedroom had TWO doors) and just stand in my livingroom and watch the lights on the christmas tree twinkle. I loved the smell of cinnamon and the sound of Christmas music. I loved the bustle, and the sounds of my family laughing. I loved how we probably had the ugliest Christmas tree on the block, because it was decked out with 25 + years of sentimental decorations - ever dough wreath, candy cane reindeer, and glittered styrofoam ball my brother and I had ever made. It was quite a sight. I could've cared less about presents, to be perfectly honest. I mean, I'm not going to say I hated getting gifts or anything, that part was great. The thing is, I can't really remember 99% of the presents I've gotten over the years, but I can recall what my house looked, smelled and felt like every single year. 
Then my mom died, and none of that really mattered to me anymore. My brother doesn't seem to recally care about it anymore, my dad doesn't even get a Christmas tree, and the ornaments my mom had been saving since well before my infancy went MIA when she did. For the past 3 years, it's been like Christmas didn't know how to survive without her. 
Today though, as I watched people Christmas shopping for their loved ones; grandmothers asking me which picture books their granddaughter may enjoy (Paper Bag Princess for the win),  little boys spending their allowance on a velveteen rabbit for their sister... or men and women alike desperately scouring the racks for cookbooks with the PERFECT Christmas dinner recipe, my teensy tiny black heart gradually warmed. I guess it's pretty lame that I was softened by mass consumerism, but it just reminded me why I loved the Holiday so much in the first place. Not because of the gifts, but because of the looks I saw on each of faces I saw today. Their compassion for their families, their joy for the season, or their heart being warmed by mass consumerism. Praise Jesus, because even though your brilliant birth is being horrifically overshadowed, you ARE love. And your love is shown on each of your childrens' faces. Your love has warmed my heart.