It was a cold day but a beauty with the sun shining and the excitement of Christmas in the air. After a busy morning and afternoon, a tiny catnap, dinner, and an errand, I took my husband for a little ride. I often like to surprise him and tonight was the night. Even though it was dark and cold.
I asked Rick to grab his coat and hat, and off we went. He looked at me a little strange since I am usually in my blue flannel pajamas with the black and white kitty pattern enjoying a hot cup of tea. But tonight, it was different. I wanted to spend time with him riding through the countryside looking at the beautiful lights.
It was a lovely time with Bing Crosby singing, I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas on the radio as we cruised up through Bushkill Township. We approached, slowed down, and crept pass each house, as the magic of the season took hold. I felt myself relaxing. It was an incredible feeling, especially with all the hustle and bustle of the holiday.
We continued our ride up and down the country roads, commenting on the unique ways some homes were decorated. Some houses were very fancy, and some were simple. Although I enjoyed the fancy, I tend to lean towards the simple.
Then, I turned on a road that was very familiar. The houses were few and a distance from each other but oh, the beauty that arises from driving through the darkness. The lights appeared to be brighter, crisper and outlined the bushes, trees, and windows like an artist’s masterpiece. However, little did I know, how the house around the corner and a few hundred feet away would take hold of my heart and seal the real reason for the season.
It was a really dark section of the road when I spotted a pale white light. The light seemed to be pulling me in a direction. As I slowly passed a house with white candles in darken windows, and a small white carved wooden nativity scene spotlighted with a soft white light, I felt my heart fill with an indescribable peace. A peace that would not let me look away. A peace that I wanted to hold on to for as long as I could.
At that moment I realized the birth of a tiny baby in the manger, was better than any gift under the Christmas tree. It was incredible how that wooden scene so simple but intricately made, held a lesson within its realm. A lesson of love and peace.
So on this day, December 18th, I pray for love and peace for our country and the world.
My name is Cynthia Jean DeLuca. I am a wife, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother. I believe in following your dreams and never giving up! Helping others is very important to me, for when we help others, we help ourselves. It is my hope to make a difference in the lives of children and grown-ups. My hobbies are writing, quilting and painting. I am a novice at all three but, enjoy them immensely. I grew up on a farm with no indoor plumbing and no heat in our upstairs. I love life and have a very strong faith. Working on inspirational short stories for grown- ups. Love to speak on topics that touch my heart.
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