"And so this [was] Christmas..."

After this Christmas 2011, I'm reminded of how wonderful it is to be a child.  So carefree, so energetic, so fun, so imaginative...and so innocent.  My son is all of those, wound tightly in his small frame.  From his excitement on Christmas Eve to his insistence on waking up and opening presents to his desire to do everything the way we do.

Two experiences demonstrate that perfection:

Alex has a nightly routine before he declares himself "ready to sleep."  It consists of reading a book, reading scriptures, praying, "cleaning the couch" (removing the couch cushions to the hide-a-bed when my mother-in-law was visiting), and then three or four rounds of hugs/kisses/etc.  It's an inviolate routine, where hell raises if you dare break it.  But the evening of 24 Dec 2011 was different...

We had watched The Polar Express before his bedtime.  Stars and wonders were in his eyes, the key message of the movie expressed in his innocent demeanor.  (It was clear to me that he understood, albeit intuitively.)  Once the movie ended, he bathed, brushed his teeth, etc.  But after the reading/praying, he ran quickly to his bed and jumped under the covers, exclaiming:  "No, I can't "na ruki" (Russian for "hold me in your arms"), I need to go to bed.  Santa Claus is coming!"  He didn't ask for a million hugs and kisses as usual...he went right to bed (even though it took him about 45 minutes to fall asleep).

Next experience:

On Friday 23 Dec 2011, Alex and I were at Wal-Mart getting a Rx for my wife, waiting in line next to the laxative section.  A man was asking an associate about the best laxative and Alex saw the Ex-lax chocolate and exclaimed:  "Papa, is that chocolate?  I want chocolate."  I explained to him what it was for and why he didn't really want it.  He responded, loudly:  "Ooooooh!!!"

Fast forward to this morning (25 Dec 2011):  I was opening up some "fancy" chocolate peppermint and Alex asked what it was.  I responded:  "This is some tasty chocolate.  Would you like some?"  He responded, with a surprised/grossed-out expression:  "Papa, that's not tasty; that's for pooping!!"

All I could do was smile, ruffle up his hair, and enjoy the wonderful blessing he is.  (His nearly 3-month old sister adds her own blessing simultaneously:  smiles and baby chunkiness, with an added measure of blow-outs.)

Simple things

Is it strange of me to enjoy, even treasure, the simple things in life?

An infant's smile.  Black pepper.  Warm gloves.  Human touch.  Mint-flavored anything.  A solid hit in baseball.  The list goes on.

We could all spend hours upon endless hours recalling simple things that add meaning to life.  The fact is, our lives are inextricably entwined with simplicity.  And that is the beauty of it!

An extra pinch of salt turns already fabulous food into out-of-this world cuisine.  A genuine smile turns even the homeliest face pleasant.  The smallest details, in aggregate, develop concertos, cantatas, and masterful symphonies.  We are surrounded by "small things" that "bring great things to pass."

I will forever love simplicity.  Even the most complex problem has its roots in simplicity.  And that is beautiful!

A breath of fresh air

Several years ago, I worked summers at FMC Corporation near Green River, WY as a C Operator (fancy jargon for "laborer").  My responsibilities gave me the luxury (and occasional excuse) to travel the entire company lease to inspect and monitor the coal and water systems.  I loved the mobility.  My favorite part, though, was watching the sunrises.

Wyoming evenings get quite cold in the summer.  Especially right before dawn, when the darkness is blackest and coldest.  (No matter how hot the day, the late nights/early mornings always required a longer-sleeved shirt.)  When I was far away from the bright lights on company property, the cold darkness was especially powerful.  Until dawn...

Sunlight, even distant sunlight, dissipates cold darkness quicker than anything in existence.  No matter how overwhelming the darkness is, light always overcomes.  "The morning breaks, the shadows flee." 

The hours immediately after dawn also bring the freshest air.  It's as though deliverance from darkness brings fresh air, breaths of fresh air.

Cold.  Darkness.  Dawn.  Deliverance.  Light.  Warmth.  A breath of fresh air...