1 The Meaning of Christmas O-h, Christmas isn't just a day. It's a frame of mind . . . and that's what's been changing. That's why I'm glad I'm here. Maybe I can do something about it.Kris Kringle, Miracle on 34th StreetChristmas of My DreamsThe Christmas cookies are all frosted,the gingerbread men have purple hair,And 'cause little hands can only reach so high,the top half of the tree is quite bare!But the bottom half sparkles with tinsel,and foil stars and paper chains,And along with the gifts the Wise Men bringare three nickels and two candy canes. Although it's true our money's tighter than ever,our love just keeps on growing, it seems,And I couldn't ask for anything more,this is the Christmas of my dreams. I used to have such great expectationsabout Christmas and just how it should be,With the picture-perfect table of goodiesand lots of presents under the tree.Although I still love the tinsel and glitter,the scent of pine and songs in the air,When all's said and done, what matters mostis the Christmas love that all of us share.Although our Christmas may not be very fancy,like the ones you see in magazines,I wouldn't trade it for anything,this is the Christmas of my dreams. So let's each count our blessings,and thank our God above,As we celebrate this seasonof the greatest gift of love.Our Christmas may not be very fancy,like the ones you see in magazines,But I couldn't ask for anything more,this is the Christmas of my dreams.Cheryl KirkingThe First ChristmasThis was my first Christmas alone. I had known it would be difficult, but I had no idea that it was going to be this hard. John had died in September, on the twenty-fifth in fact, so Christmas was three months to the day since his death. I tried hard not to feel sorry for myself but was only successful part of the time.I learned to play bridge, bought tickets to the symphony, and enrolled in a weekly watercolor class. These things helped pass the time, it was true, but in many ways I felt like I was just going through the motions. I had dreaded the last day of November, knowing that when I tore off the calendar page on the thirtieth it would mean that Christmas was just around the corner, and it would be the first one in forty-six years without my beloved Johnny.I heaved myself out of the La-Z-Boy with a deep sigh. No sense dwelling on it. I had to stop feeling sorry for myself. Thank the Lord, my daughter Wendy still lived in town, although she had been talking more and more about moving out east since her divorce from Dave. She felt there were more job opportunities in the advertising field out there. Wendy was a go-getter, all right. I could have predicted that she wouldn't stay in Swan River for long, even if her marriage to Dave had worked out. Well, she was here in town for the time being anyway, and at least we'd have each other's company for Christmas dinner.With that thought in mind, I propelled myself toward the kitchen where Excerpted from A Chicken Soup for the Soul Christmas by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
