Last evening after dinner, I sat down in my Lazy-Boy rocker to read a new book.  Suddenly, there was a loud “swoosh,” and my Christmas tree fell to the ground.  Ornaments went everywhere; the angel flew off the top of the tree.  A bigger chaos I have never seen in my home.  Apparently, one of the tree screws in the stand broke in half.  Remind me not to buy Chinese products again.  Thank heavens for good neighbors who came over to the house to help me put the tree back up.

But as I began picking up pieces of glass ornaments, memories flooded my heart as I remembered the year I bought them, what special gift came from whom.  My tears turned into joy as I remembered the event that gave me the ornament.  My white lights still shined brightly into the world, telling everyone to prepare for the coming of the Christ child.  As my sadness changed to joy, I began feeling a peace that I’ve needed since the beginning of COVID.

So today, as I light the third candle of the Advent wreath, the candle of joy, I feel joy all around me.  It is in the children,  in the lights,  in the music, in the gathering together.  I will not let the sadness, the memories, of past years and people, to push my joy aside.  Joy wells up in us like an underground spring; it is a choice, an attitude.  Like a muscle, it needs to be exercised.  I am letting in the joy of Christ’s birth, trusting that God knows what to plant in me.  Our Christian duty is to take care of it and share it with the world.  With hope, peace, and joy, the world can open its heart to goodwill for all men.  As for my Christmas tree, I am redecorating it with joy above all else.

Anna Hartt