By Beck
The old coin about the year – that spring was youth, summer was vibrant maturity, fall was middle age and winter… well, winter was old age and death – anyhow, that coin feels very true right now, but not in a bad way. The year is coming to an end and everything is white and pretty, if a bit stark, and in a few days, Christmas lights will be up all over town and you will just ache with beauty to see it lit up at night. Small towns were made for Christmastime, look their best coated in fairy tale white and with coloured lights lining the old roof lines, even small towns that are fading away, shining away in the darkness.
I made my middle kid cry this morning. He was griping about how he didn’t want to bring money to school for a charity event that morning, and as I was mixing up a cake to go into his lunch in thick, chocolate slices, I told him that some kids didn’t have parents, didn’t have anyone who loved them in the whole world, and that the comfort of a few small presents and of knowing that Jesus loves them was a huge, huge thing – and then I turned my head and saw him with tears running down his cheeks. Good work, me. Way to make the poor big-hearted kid cry.
“Please stop telling me sad stories,” he said.
Sometimes I feel like I’m 100 years old already, old and wise like a wrinkly turtle. Some other times, I feel like I’m 100 years old – still – but only in the way where I’m weary and tired. Standing there, suddenly knowing that I had said exactly the wrong thing to my child made me feel like I had instantly aged, my hair turning white about me. Sometimes I feel like all there ever will be are sad stories, that it will always be November and grey outside.
This weekend marks the beginning of Advent. Already, trees are lighting up all over town. Already, little houses are shining brightly in the wintery darkness.
i’ve done that a million times…tried to teach the kids a lesson only to have it come out all wrong.
i’m ready for christmas, i don’t feel any of the curmudgeon-y dread that lots of people feel when thinking of christmas. i just feel happy to be in a small town, too.
You are just the best writer, Beck! I feel like that and can’t express it so well. Awesome. But – hey – I vote you change the banner on your blog to something more cheerful. Feng shui it up.
oh Beck.
This was lovely.
and as much of a grinch that I am? I love xmas lights and fresh snow.
You made me cry lol. I think you did a great thing. Today is a good day to talkto our children about being thankful for what we have and explaining to them that not everyone is as blessed as we are. I put my Christmas lights up yesterday but have mroe to do as soon as i get a longer extention cord.
I always feel like a kid raising kids when I hurt my own children’s feelings. But sometimes it’s a necessary pain we cause, I think. He will probably never feel reluctant again about having to bring a gift for a charity. I’d bet on it. And hey – you sure don’t look like a wrinkly old turtle, so you’ve got that going for you.
Awww, bless his tender heart. What a sweet boy.
We’re sponsoring a family for Christmas and I did the same thing as you, over-explaining, over-dramatizing why it was we were out buying gifts and food for people we don’t know. In an effort to make them feel charitable, I scared them. Yay me.
You have a great child who does show compassion for others, even though he complained a little about taking money to school for a charity event. It was probably his money, and it was, I am glad that you did not just give him some money to take. He will remember the lesson that you taught him.
A beautifully written post, Beck. But I don’t think you said the wrong thing. Your son was crying for the right reason. We take our good lives for granted. Perhaps we all should cry and try to help the poorer children of the world more often.
I don’t think you said the wrong thing. Its sweet that what you said touched him so. And yes small towns are MADE for Christmas and snow I agree wholeheartedly!
“Sometimes I feel like I’m 100 years old already, old and wise like a wrinkly turtle. Some other times, I feel like I’m 100 years old – still – but only in the way where I’m weary and tired. Standing there, suddenly knowing that I had said exactly the wrong thing to my child made me feel like I had instantly aged, my hair turning white about me. Sometimes I feel like all there ever will be are sad stories, that it will always be November and grey outside.” So beautifully written. So true. Thanks for sharing this Beck.
If I had a dollar for every time I said the wrong thing…
Oh. Poor kid, and poor you. The lights will help. They help me, for sure …
Okay, yeah, this was better. Beautiful.
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