Allowing myself to be bustled and bamboozled into a Christmas frenzy is usually my own fault. The Christmas list of to-dos seems to go on forever and unfortunately, I have been more focused on tasks rather than the joy of the season. For the past few years I have not sent cards or letters to wish anyone the good cheer I do wish them. So this year, I planted my fingers firmly on the keyboard and typed away some letters to the people who, because of distance, I won't be able to say, "Merry Christmas," to in person. As I wrote each letter (no singular format this time), I took the time to mentally picture the person (s) to whom I was writing, and I found myself thoroughly enjoying the act of letter writing once more. It felt good to share the past year's events with friends who I don't see as often as I would like. One letter was especially sweet to write because it finally made up for a negligence. Let me explain.
About eight years ago, when I was teaching at at middle school, I had organized a prayer group that consisted of some teachers. We would meet in my classroom once a week and pray for the needs of the students, school and each other. Our music teacher, Rebecca, was usually present for these weekly prayer meetings. When I left that school for another, Rebecca kept my address and would always send me a Christmas card and letter with a personal note expressing her thanks for our past prayer times. Her letters expressed the joy and hope, and peace that come from a relationship with the "Birthday Boy," himself. I never responded to her cards or letters. I would read them, place them on a pile and turn then away to Christmas cleaning, cooking or worse --complaining. This year is different, I wrote to Rebecca and wished her the peace, love and joy she always extended to me. I hope she reads it and realizes how much her gift of a simple letter has finally meant to me.
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