It's A Christmas Miracle

In the past week, Scott and I decided to call any opportunity a "Christmas Miracle."

The little elderly dog lost in the park in our neighborhood, a week later found unharmed a few blocks away  -- a Christmas Miracle.

Scott not catching whatever funky virus I had last week -- a Christmas Miracle.

Receiving not one, but THREE packages of our favorite Berger Cookies from two friends in Maryland -- a Christmas Miracle.

It's the little things, y'all.

The holidays snuck up on me this year and kind of made me a Grinch. We just had Thanksgiving. I wasn't ready. No one we invited to our house for Christmas could make it. Didn't want to compile my annual ridiculous holiday music playlist. Preferred curling up with a good book than hitting up a holiday party. Waited a week before December 25 to start shopping.

But then I decided to make cookies for our neighbors over the weekend.

Last night Scott and I took a jar over to one of them, an elderly man we've struggled to appreciate due to his aging barking dog. He opened the door, crumbs gathered in the corners of his mouth, his jaw working to finish a bite of food. We'd obviously interrupted his dinner. I wanted to retreat -- maybe come back, maybe not.

He can't hear very well, but we did our best to explain we'd baked some Snickerdoodles and some Lemon Chewies. Taking the cookies from me, he smiled and said, "My wife's in the hospital. But she gets to come home tomorrow. I'm gonna go get her tomorrow." His eyes lit up.

I'm glad we baked the cookies and took them over to him. I'm glad his wife will come home. I'm glad the Grinch is gone.

So we baked scones (six dozen!!) for our family. I just pulled this gingerbread cake out of the oven. Tonight we'll have our traditional Christmas Eve soup supper at my mom's house and then Moravian Sugar Cake for Christmas morning breakfast. We'll eat and drink with Scott's aunt and uncle tomorrow afternoon.

We'll open presents. Dig candy canes out of overstuffed stockings. Sing a carol or two. Blow out our candles at the Christmas Eve service. Drink one too many eggnogs (extra bourbon, please.) Our dog Loretta will get spoiled with treats -- well, won't we all?

In the end, it's the little things. I hope yours are merry and bright this holiday season. 


  1. Will be with you in spirit. Lots of love!!

    1. I hope the Augusta Adams had a wonderful day. Thank you for all the treats!

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