Christmas is only 18 days away right now. I’m very excited. I love the holiday season, even if I don’t do anything special. I don’t put up a Christmas tree or sing carols. I don’t buy presents or string lights around my studio apartment. I don’t visit Santa Clause or go back home to Kansas. Yet, there is something about this time of year that creates feelings of love and hope within me. I’ve always believed that Christmas is the season of peace, the time of miracles. I have been so fortunate. I learned to believe in miracles at a very early age.
In my earliest memory, I was just six-years-old. One particular night, I did not feel blessed or miraculous. I did not feel loved or safe. Instead, I was lying in bed, crying deep wracking sobs. I don’t remember exactly why I was crying. I only remember being very afraid. Well, I must have cried myself to sleep because the next thing I remember I was surrounded by morning. The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was bright golden sunlight pouring in through the window across from my bed. I just watched the sunlight, fascinated by its glimmering rays that lit up every corner of my bedroom. I was lying on my back with my left hand resting palm up next to my head on the pillow. I suddenly became aware of a warm pressure in the palm of my hand. I turned my head and saw a smooth hand with long slender fingers resting in mine. I followed the hand up the arm to the shoulder until I found myself staring into the face of an angel who was sitting by my bedside. The angel was dressed in long white robes, her wings rustling softly behind her, and her halo lighting up her face and golden hair. Her lips curved then into a gentle smile before her hand slipped out of mine and she began to move away from me. She floated effortlessly across the room and flowed through the shaft of light that drifted in through the window. The golden glow of sunlight followed her out of the room and soon I was just surrounded by normal morning light.
Angels have always graced our lives. Miracles have always occurred. Why have we stopped looking for them? Why do we not believe? Every year, Christmas fills me again with the hope and dreams of miracles to come. I don’t need lights, or presents, trees, or Santa Clause. Christmas is about love and hope, giving and learning, finding miracles and creating magic. Christmas is a state of mind. I just have to remember that I can create and celebrate Christmas every day of the year.
Author Jamie Zunick 