It has been an angel of a Christmas.
Angels in pictures, angels in a blog, angels in places I never would have expected. They’ve slowed me down, a gentle touch on my shoulder to tell me work is not all there is to life. They’ve come this Advent, come in the blue-gold breezes and in the melody of resting birds; in the hush of long grasses that grow on our hills. They’ve been the lamp that continues to glow long after lights in the home have been switched off. Angels were that spark of Advent joy within me, joy I’d thought I’d long since outgrown.
Angels made me do what I had never before done – decorate my kitchen! Always guided by a dull sense of practicality, I let go this year, if only a little. We got us three little boxes of little joy-bells, and strung them up in red ribbons on cabinet doors and door handles. 2 little gift tea cloths in festive reds and whites found their place in my kitchen too. And unseen angels kept our kitchen lighted all through.
Thirty people ate, slept and made merry in our little home amongst the quiet greens last Christmas. Thirty people, young and old, brought us an Angel warmth like never before. Its gentle glow banished into the shadows the hurts and pains of yesteryears, and gently nudged us to gratitude, thanksgiving and hope for the new year.