White Christmas Eve

Our family Christmas party last night was a rousing success. It was so good to have everyone here, our usually quiet home transformed into a place of light and love and boisterous good fun. We were very pleased at Jinx’s behavior at his first large family gathering. He was calm and friendly,even when little boys were firing off toy machine guns a few feet from him. Sprawled in the floor and sporting his Yuletide bandanna, Jinx was an island of quiet in a tempest of child-noise.

We awoke to rain this morning, and it grew steadily more intense throughout the day. By the time Jinx and I took our afternoon walk, the winds were whipping the water sideways with sufficient force to frighten the dog. He did what he needed to do, then sped back to the house and shook himself, waiting for me to catch up.

About 5 pm, the rain began to change to snow. Even now, the white flakes are heavy and furious, stacking on top of each other and rising in the white carpet we dream of in our Julys, our Augusts. I’ve been keeping a watch on the storm’s progress, as has my wife. A while ago, she announced grim news. It seems that the racial unrest much of the rest of the country has seen for months has finally made its way here to this remote patch of the earth. We learned that the road leading down off our mountain has been closed. According to reports, several people have been injured by black guys on the road. The news made our Christmas Eve a bit grimmer.

But then we realized that the report had been talking about black ice on the road.

I denounce myself for my badthoughts. Especially on Christmas Eve.

Tonight the flames are flickering in the wood stove and the dogs are snoring in their beds near it, unaware of the packages of chew toys beneath the tree. I’m thinking of my grandmother, who died 40 years ago tomorrow morning, and of my mother, who never stopped grieving her mama’s death on Christmas day. I’m thinking of how Nanny reused and reused her wrapping paper every year, and how by the time I went out from my family to seek my fortune, her supply of wrapping paper had been so wrinkled and smoothed and creased and flattened that the pattern and even the color of the paper had been altered to the point of mystery and beauty and art. I used to get frustrated at Nanny, wishing that she would shrug off the Depression mentality and buy some new paper. I am thinking tonight that I would pay a dear price to have a sheet or two of Nanny’s crumpled wrapping paper.

Jinx is awaiting Santa Claus, because I have told him the stories, and he has believed them. All of us are drowsing in front of the fire, and we are hoping that we don’t lose power tonight as the heavy, wet snow piles on the power lines. We are humming the old carols and  yes, sipping egg nog. Our house is at peace, and the sense of peace compels us to with others the same peace.

And so I wish each and every one of you, and your families, a very Merry Christmas. May the good Lord bless you all and grant you His peace.

S.K. Orr