How many Christmases have you survived? It's a heavy weight to carry----the expectations of tiny snowy villages on mantels, wreaths on every door, anxiety that your chosen gifts will not please,   the travail of beginning a family tradition---which then must be kept, until yes, we have a special meal and activity for nearly every day .  . .  It's astonishing that we do this to ourselves every year. And every year we vow to be simpler next year, to buy one gift, to relish the presence of one another most, to attend every worship service, to create the space we need to find wonder again . . ..  and we don't. 

But I believe it's still there-----Astonishment. I send this poem out to you in hopes it will revive what may be exhausted. I wrote it many years ago, and it has turned up around the world in the most surprising places. Its words redeemed a particularly difficult Christmas, and I send it to you now hoping it will do the same for you:

Wishing you peace, Always,

Leslie