You know what else I love about Christmas?

The lights.

The white lights that twinkle like snow in the night.
The colored lights remind me of all my favorite things like houses made of gingerbread and candy, funny little fairytales, and witches being thrown into ovens.

But what I really like, is that they make me so happy.  That they make my heart smile. Huge, wide grins.

Because they pull me to this moment. Where there is only light and love.

They remind me that the simplest things are the best things. They remind me of the sparkle in my children’s eyes. And the way their eyes light up on Christmas Day. And how the whole world seems to be quiet, if only for a short time. To rejoice and be happy and to give love.

Those little lights remind me of  trays of sweet fruit on Christmas morning devoured behind a thick slice of crumbly coffee cake. And stubbing my toe on a toy that is right in the middle of the hallway, and not even caring.

And that is why, I deal with one of my least favorite things about Christmas.

Putting UP the lights.

And dealing with Mr. Woo yelling that I’m not holding the ladder tight enough, and that he might die. Or that he’s tired, and he wants to take a break. Or that it might rain, or it might not, and these are all key factors as to whether or not he will or won’t get on a ladder, climb two stories and risk his life.

His life.

His beautiful, wonderful, very appreciated life. Yes, my sweet.  It is precious.  But you must risk it if we are to have one up on our neighbors.