It’s the phrase my Mother repeated year after year the moment I opened the old screen kitchen door, stepped into her 10,000-Santa breakfast room and, three or four or five dogs sniffing at my knees, wrapped my arms tight around her. You are home. Now Christmas can begin! she’d say. I’d inevitably traveled back to Virginia from South Carolina (whether home from college or my grown-up life) and while I appreciated her enthusiasm, I didn’t really understand the magnitude of the sentiment.
Now I do. Boy, do I.
Look who finished exams this morning and came home this afternoon.
Now Christmas can begin!
30 Days of Joy
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