I had a little visit from a couple of elves the other day and consequently my house looks like a very messy Christmas snow globe turned upside down.
True, the youngest elf and myself managed to decorate the tree, but the oldest elf disappeared, out to Santa’s (aka grandpa’s) workshop.
The youngest elf and I mostly decorated the tree, but, of course, we couldn’t find the hooks for most of the balls. What happens to those darn hooks, anyway? Every year, I buy more and every year I still can’t find them when I need them.
Anyway, the littlest elf and I did the best we could, using less to create more.
In the end, after much searching, I found the Christmas angel and lifted the child up high to place her on the tree thinking to myself, “isn’t this so nice, the child will place the angel on the tree and then we will go have hot chocolate and admire our work and all will be good.”
And so I lifted him up with that very thought in mind. It turns out he is very heavy.
And it seems I am very short.
So I held him for what seemed like forever and he valiantly tried to reach the top, but he couldn’t.
Finally, he said, “grandma, put me down. This isn’t working.”
And, because my arm was pretty much numb by then, I gratefully obliged.
“You put it on,” he said, thrusting the somewhat crumpled angel into my hands.
“Okay,” I mumbled. “Good idea.”
And so ended our tree decorating adventure and the littlest elf took off to get google to play the song, “You’re a bad one, Mr. Grinch,” one more time and I collapsed on the couch with a glass of something that kind of suggested Christmas.
Well, it was red, anyway.
And so it came to be that the next morning, I was up bright and early, stepping among the boxes of Christmas decorations to try to create some sort of order from the chaos the elves had left me with
That’s how I found the guitar pick.
I was dusting, you see, to make everything clean and shiny before I put up all the decorations, which are many, mostly because I seem to pick up a little something new every year, conveniently forgetting I already have too much stuff, way too much stuff.
Anyway, before I placed my beloved Christmas scene with the babe in a manger, Mary and Joseph, the wise men and the shepherd and one misplaced cow, on top of the piano, I decided to dust the piano which certainly needed it. I am almost embarrassed to write about how dusty it was, so don’t try too hard to imagine it, please.
Anyway, that’s when I saw the guitar pick.
Immediately I was reminded of one of the good things, one of the very good things there is about Christmas.
And it isn’t the constant mess that I find it so easy to slip into while trying to juggle housework, work, Christmas shopping and more of the same.
And it isn’t the worry about money which seems to disappear mysteriously at this time of year almost like lost socks.
No, it certainly is not that.
It’s the music.
The wonderful, awesome music that can soften the edges of the harshest day. Really, I think, especially at Christmas, we need a little music just to get us through the rest of the stuff done.
In my little corner of the world, I am most lucky to have some great and wonderful family members and friends who also happen to be musicians.
I love them. They bring to my world laughter, good conversation, and, of course, a delightful variety of music. Counted in that number are a violinist, a cello player, a couple guitar players and several very accomplished pianists.
I carefully place the guitar pick back where I found it.
I know that if I wait long enough, it will be put to good use one more time.
And, once again we will have a little Christmas with our music.
And it will be good!