Christmas Tree

  There's something about sitting in the living room, watching the Christmas tree lights cast shadows against the ornaments that always gets to me. I don't know if I can really explain it. But each ornament has a story, has a special meaning for our tree From where I sit I can see the notes to 'Silent Night' penned out on an egg shell - a reminder of walking through the streets in Austria in 2005 with my parents. I can see the story book of "Humpty Dumpty" that folds out near the top of the tree - my first Christmas ornament from my God-father, which started a long standing tradition. Some of the memories aren't always pleasant ones, but they are still necessary, like the Friends Forever mittens that remind me of friendships long deteriorated leaving only a residue of pain. Each ornament is special to my family, to the point where if one is missing we can tell and begin to feel uneasy. And as I sit here looking at the tree full of memories I've been thinking about the pain that people feel when they loose someone in their family - we've had three deaths in the past week alone in my church family. I hurt when I'm just away from the people I'm connected to, but they are still very much alive and in communication with me. I can't connect with the people whom the holidays are just a reminder of people who are gone from their lives, people who have died. Symbols are haunted by memories, memories that can make us smile or cause us to cry. How do we reach out to the hurting during the Holidays, or are we so wrapped up in the beauty of our own Christmas tree and extent of our own Christmas plans that we forget those for whom this is a hard time....