It was quiet.
The fog was still covering our world.
Everything was frozen.
In fact not much seemed to be alive.
The frozen fog had been with us for days.
And yet, there was warmth.
Warmth from the lights on the Christmas tree and the colored balls around them.
Warmth from the heater in the feed truck.
Warmth from puppy fur.
Warmth in bowls of oatmeal.
Warmth in hats and gloves and mittens.
Warmth in knowing we are loved.
So very, very loved.
…………………………………….
The four of us had Christmas morning to ourselves.
We fed cows, ate breakfast, and then unwrapped a few more presents.
Farm sets, books, a head lamp, little toys, stickers, markers, magnetic boards, and even some new baking dishes for me.
It was simple … and yet perfect.
It was quiet … but shouted joy from the depths of the boy’s souls.
It was cold … but warmth came from within.
As I sipped some hot chocolate out of a mug from our growing collection of assorted snowmen (and women), I watched my boys play with their things, looked across the room and smiled at Ian … and then opened one of my treasured blog books …
warmth … despite of the cold … in abundance.
