The Starbucks in my corner of the world has begun handing out winter-themed coffee sleeves, in recognition of the ever-decreasing temperature. It is now November, and I am in the holiday spirit. Halloween is over – bring on Thanksgiving with it’s turkey and pie and loud, loud family and Christmas with it’s traditions and tableau of Americana.
Although I am not one to crank up the Christmas music much before Thanksgiving, [note: I refuse to let the Mariah-Carey-karaoke that recently plagued my household to negate this sentence. Sometimes, you just have to let people know that all I want for Christmas is you.] winter floods me with memories of festive gatherings, holiday traditions, and family.
In an attempt to live into those memories and breathe life back into them, I will be sharing some of these adventures as winter hastens her arrival. I have been told that I hail from an idyllic town, emblematic of small town life in an era that is slipping away. Although that might be the case, I hope that these stories tell of the goodness of tradition, of family, of Christmas. I hope that you see some of your Story in these stories, and that each of them points you to the Teller of the True Story, of which we are all a part.