Christmas continued...

On Friday night our family attended a one man performance of, The Christmas Carol.  It was small and affordable, and brilliantly produced.  The story becomes richer and more meaningful every year. I am very thankful for the hope and redemption that Dickens gives witness to.  Growing up, my family made a tradition of seeing local productions of this play, so it is fun to see my own children's eyes widen at the opening words, "Marley was dead!"

I found this copy for my brother for Christmas.

Do you remember this one?  Fiona and I lost ourselves in it yesterday.  (Myles was lurking around the corner, calling out questions from the other room.  "Which war is the dad fighting in?" )

Today is a bit of a George Bailey day for me. "I want to live again, I want to live again." Can't you just see Jimmy Stewart burying his head in his arms crying this out?  We all have our own Mr. Potter hunting us down, trying to bankrupt our lives. Today, mine comes in the form deceitful hormones and piles of recycling waiting for someone to take them to the dump.  I always forget that that someone is me.

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