I think I enjoy Christmas Eve more than the 25th of December.
On Christmas everything zips by in a flash. It’s all too exciting, too incredible, too good to be true: the gifts, the family, the food. I wake up too early from anticipation and then feel sleepy all day, living through a dream.
There’s a peace to Christmas Eve, a calm before the storm. The presents sit beneath the tree in their perfection: larger than life and filled with a myriad of possibility. I’m usually organized well enough to have the majority of my gifts wrapped, so the day is mine. I read a Christmas story in the morning, work on a puzzle in the afternoon, surprised by the patience that fills me. In the evening comes my favourite part of holiday season: the candlelight service. I love the reverence of the old hymns, the solemness of minor keys sounding in the darkness. The glow from the candles never cease to still me. It always feels holy. In that moment, nothing is wrong.
I am at peace with the world.
