. . . It feels like Christmas

It's in the singing of the street corner choir
Or the choir of Primary children lisping out a lullaby to the baby Jesus. It's even cute when a solid third of the kids are tone deaf. Cute squared, when the whole front of little girls have round faces and are missing half their teeth.

It's going home and getting warm by the fire
So my parents' fireplace is actually gas, but it's still warm. Unfortunately, this means we cannot attempt to roast marshmallows in the fireplace like we did when it was real. Fortunately, this probably means there is a smaller chance we would set the house on fire now. Also, getting warm by the fire usually means Scrabble--and with my parents and me, that's two types of fire . . . (though my mom insists it's going to be a New Year's Resolutions of hers to reform; I hope she doesn't, half the fun of playing is watching her get crazy competitive)

It's true, wherever you find love it feels like Christmas
My roommate and I knew exactly what we got each other for Christmas. It was our own dorky way of ensuring that each of us got to buy something for the other, before we bought it for ourselves. Most people would find a certain element of surprise lacking in our Christmas celebration, but they would also find it exceedingly random the way we connect and how the talking was my favorite part of Roommate Christmas 2007.

A cup of kindness that we share with another
I attended my parents' ward yesterday, what I will always consider my "home ward." The choir attempted the MoTab version of O Holy Night, which is basically a solo with choir accompaniment. The soloist, for some reason, missed her note, started crying in earnest, and barely muddled her way to the end of the song. She had not been back in her seat for two minutes before other choir members slid over to literally offer a couple of shoulders to cry on and reassure her.

A sweet reunion with a friend or a brother
If you don't think this is true, you've never seen any mother anxiously waiting by the phone on Christmas Day for a missionary to call. That call isn't really for the whole family, it's totally for the mamas. Trust me: my mom has already started looking anxious . . .

In all the places you find love, it feels like Christmas
I've felt Christmas wishes from a surprising number of places this year--people I would never have suspected who manage to overcome their inner Grinch and be nice despite it all. The office, especially, has been more tolerant of each other--making certain facets of my job much easier.

It is the season of the heart, a special time for caring, the ways of love made clear
People are surprisingly kind this time of year, including my older brother. Of course, I have to wonder if that's more the influence of his new girlfriend than anything else. But I'll keep him anyway.

It is the season of the Spirit, the message if we hear it--'make it last all year'
I modified this lyric slightly. To me, it is the season of the Spirit--the fundamental spirit of Christmas has the Spirit at its root. Not to sound terribly cynical, but people usually just don't have that type of goodwill without a little prompting.

It's in the giving of a gift to another
Whether or not they know what it is. I loved my roommate's gift to me. I'm guaranteed to love the boots my sister picked out with my help. The magazine subscription from my grandparents will make me happy. So will all of the surprises. For me, it's not how much I know--it's the intent behind the giving.

A pair of mittens that were made by your mother
I don't recall Mom ever making mittens, but until my Grandma's hands were too crippled from arthritis, we got a pair of slippers knit in our favorite color. Or colors, if we had more than one.

It's all the ways that we show love that feel like Christmas
My family shows love primarily by being together, by showing a more vested interest in each other as people and not only as siblings, parents, in-laws, outlaws. (Just kidding, there are no outlaws in my family. Yet.) I hate to admit this, but we're all much more helpful during the holidays, easing burdens so my parents don't have to bear the whole load.

A part of childhood we'll always remember
It's nice to have a day where I don't have to be a grown-up, where I can crawl around playing cars with my nephew while we're still both in our pajamas. And Christmas is one of the holidays I believe was specifically designed to help us retain a sense of child-like wonder. All of the snow globes and the lights and how everything sparkles after the first snow . . . the carriages (okay, the horses smell, but it's still a pretty picture) and everything with ribbons and poinsettias. It makes me want to skip. I don't, of course, but I still want to.

It is the summer of the soul in December
There is no other time of year when I feel closer to the Savior than this time of year, as we celebrate His birth. That makes my soul feel very summery indeed.

. . . Yes, wherever you find love, it feels like Christmas.
If you're reading this, chances are I've felt love from you in one way or another, whether you realize it or not. Thanks for that. And Merry Christmas!