But it was a good walk. The streets were quiet, and for whatever reason it was nice to see Christmas lights twinkling in the early morning. It made I thought an interesting juxtaposition from their appearances at night. They were more subtle. More sublime in fact.
Lately as I've went to sleep I've kept a small tree which my oldest son bought a few years back, next to my bed. I switch on its lights before climbing under the covers and doze off to its muted glow. Although I like the big tree in the living room, I find I like the small one equally.
Charlie actually bought quite a few of those baby trees, maybe a dozen, placing them all over the house that year, in windows and cubbies, and even in the basement, one by itself on a table over against an inside wall. I remember going downstairs greeted only by that softly lighted little fake evergreen. I found I was extremely happy to see it. I kind of hated turning on the regular lights; it spoiled the weak, tiny reminder of Christmas.
Power is one thing, subtlety another. I like the powerful, grand displays of Christmas. But at times the greatest power seems to come from the smaller things.
Merry Christmas everyone.
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