It's about the peace.
The photo is from the website of St. John's Cathedral in Denver. My parents met at the serviceman's canteen that was run by the church, where Mom prepared and served meals. They married at St. John's. My earliest Christmas memories are of the colors and music there, including my participation in the children's pageant at which we discovered my intense allergy to hay.
Back then, the pipe organ was played by David Pew, and I remember being so enthralled that Mom took me to his rehearsals; she was always amazed that a toddler could sit still for so long. We were taught the story of Christmas and about the gifts that are given, not received. At home, I remember standing on tiptoe trying to look out the window, looking for the star, not Santa Claus. The lights and ornaments of the tree were reflected in that window, an amazing thing for a child's mind to contemplate.
Many decades have elapsed since then, but I can still lose myself in gazing on those old ornaments on my tree while listening to favorite carols. I find a peace there that I've never found anywhere else, which I suppose is the point. And I hope that never changes. For now, my imagination lets me wrap a bit of that peace in pretty paper and ribbon for giving to you.
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One of the relatives is playing this in the background
