It Felt Like Christmas

 It Might Not Be Christmas… But It Felt Like It

It might not be Christmas, but this past week I received a gift that felt every bit like it.

Several years ago, my mother-in-law had the most beautiful ceramic Christmas tree. It was solid white, standing about two feet tall, with tiny colored lights. It wasn’t just a decoration—it was a memory, a feeling, a piece of her home. Our daughters always admired that tree. I'm sure it was the simplicity, maybe the way it lit up a room, or maybe the love attached to it that attracted them to it. 

After she passed away, that tree was never found. It simply disappeared somewhere along the way, leaving behind only the memory of its glow.

A couple of weeks ago, Sam was scrolling through antique websites and came across a tree that looked so similar—only this one was green and not as tall. It wasn't one of the newer versions you can find in stores today, but a true antique, full of character and history. It was located in Oklahoma, and without hesitation, he bought it.

It arrived on Friday.

But instead of opening a box filled with nostalgia and joy, we were met with heartbreak. The tree had been shattered. The bottom was in what felt like a hundred tiny pieces, and the top was broken into larger fragments. Something so carefully chosen… so full of meaning… reduced to pieces in a cardboard box.

The seller was very kind and the good thing is...she had insurance, so she is refunding the money. And yes, I suppose these kinds of things happen, don’t they?

But oh… it still stings.

Because it wasn’t just about the tree.

It was about the thought behind it. The remembering and the searching.  It was about the hope of holding something again that felt connected to the past… to family… to moments that can never be replaced.

Maybe that’s where the real gift was all along.

Not in the ceramic.

Not in the lights.

Not even in the perfect condition of something fragile.

But in the heart behind it.

In a husband who remembered.

In the effort he made.

In the love wrapped up in that unexpected surprise.

Sometimes gifts don’t arrive the way we imagine. Sometimes they come broken, or delayed, or not at all. But if we look closely, we may find that the truest gift is still there—quietly tucked inside the intention.

It might not be Christmas…

…but love still showed up like it was.

Thank you Sam for your genuine love.

Shug...💛