Dreaming of a white Christmas

Wrapping up gifts, trudging over snowbanks to bring neighbors cookies, playing Christmas CDs, making banana bread ... and now it has started to snow -- big, fat, magical flakes. The kind you always dream of for a perfect white Christmas.

Yes, we still have feet (yes, feet!) of snow all over the city but Mother Nature decided to overdeliver for Christmas 2006. Tucked away in our warm house with all our furry ones, we're settling down for a long winter's night.

There's a certain magic to Christmas Eve -- best summed up from a scene out of my favorite TV show, Northern Exposure.

"It's an old legend, that on Christmas Eve at midnight, all the animals fall on their knees and speak -- praising the new born Jesus.

(pausing to reflect)

Back in the winter of '68, my Dad was doing a short term for D and D. Mom was -- I'm not sure where Mom was. Anyway, I was home alone on Christmas Eve and I stayed up late to see if my dog, Buster, would talk. He did -- at least I think he did. I don't remember Buster's exact words, but that's not important. What matters is that a seven-year-old boy experienced his own personal epiphany.

My point? It's that Christmas reveals itself to each of us in a personal way -- be it secular or sacred. Whatever Christmas is -- and it's many things to many people -- we all own a piece of it. Kinda like Santa's bag, inside there's gift for everyone.
My Christmas wish for you tonight -- may your dog talk"

Chris-in-the-Morning from 3.10 Seoul Mates (also reading from the Friendly Beasts)

So echoing that sentiment, may you have a Merry Christmas, may your dog talk and may your cat only bite the Christmas tree bulbs when the power is off.