Nine days until Christmas: I hear footsteps on the roof, and it’s not Santa. The footsteps belong to Don, my husband. He’s embellishing the house with lights for the season. For thirty-two years he has lit up our home with color and watched the eyes of the children light up with JOY. In the beginning, he did the labor of love for our children. Today, he decorates for the grandchildren.

Don’s task reminds me the season has begun and I’m not ready. I must find the perfect tree. I haven’t decorated my home. What should I plan for Christmas Eve dinner? I need to shop for gifts. Ugh—all that wrapping. I’m exhausted before I even begin.

Eight days left: I love lists. They keep me focused on the task at hand. It’s essential to make a list that encompasses everything I must do before Christmas. The list may take me an entire day to write. I must have a little Santa in me, since I make my list and check it twice. By the end of the day, I’m ready to proceed with Christmas preparations.

Seven days left:  First things first, I gather all the decorations from my many storage areas. Then, Don and I find the picture-perfect fir. He lugs the tree into the house and sets it in the stand. The task of decorating belongs to me. My thoughts wander to next month’s electric bill, as I struggle to put the five strands of twinkling lights on the beautifully shaped fir.

Our tree is an angel tree, decorated with love for my angels. The ornaments I’ve collected over the last thirty years are meticulously hung. I carefully climb the ladder and place the special angel on the top branch of the fragrant fir—an angel that has set atop my tree for almost forty years. The evergreen-scented fir tree is turned into a heavenly realm with my collected angelical ornaments. My once-a-year act of love towers over me. A pleased smile on my face, I am anxious to share the tree with the family.

Five to Six days left: Since I don’t like to shop, it’s important for me to start with a list. Our family seems to expand right before my eyes. I panic and wrack my brain for gift ideas. What do I buy for our ten precious grandchildren and their parents? What about my husband? I must not forget anyone. I sit in my favorite chair, pen to blank paper, without a clue of what to put on the list. I calm myself with a quick prayer, and, as if by magic, the empty page is filled with gift ideas. My list and I head out the door to shop. Many hours later, I drop the packages on the bedroom floor, fall into bed, and start all over again the next morning. I am pleased with each unique gift for those near and dear to my heart.

Three to four days left: It’s time to turn these perfect gifts into presents. I drag out the shiny wrapping paper, ribbon, bows, and tags, and toss them on the middle of the living room floor with my purchases. The room resembles a war zone, but I work around the chaos as one by one, with a tenderness found deep inside of me, I wrap each gift. As I finish each present, I add the tag, say a prayer for the loved one who will receive the gift, cross the person from my list, and place the present under the tree. Whew, next year I’ll use gift bags.

Two days before Christmas: When my husband and I married thirty-one years ago, we began a Christmas tradition for our new blended family. The evening of the twenty-fourth is our appointed time to get together as a family. The children know they are expected at our home and rarely disappoint us. This year, we will feed twenty.

Don and I discuss the menu. He chooses the meat, since he is the chef for the evening. Each of our four children agrees to bring a side dish that goes well with the main course. I prepare the grocery list and make my way to the stores to shop for the ingredients needed for the meal. Upon my return, I begin the preparation for tomorrow’s feast and spend the remainder of the day in the kitchen.

As I climb into bed, a child-like excitement threatens to keep me awake. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and my family will be together.

The Magic of Christmas JOY to be continued tomorrow…….