DEAREST READER

Dearest Reader,

I am reading and writing later than usual because it is Saturday, the Saturday before Christmas. The sun, blazing through the window, is making the smoke produced by the smoldering sage visible. This Saturday morning’s vibe is one of ease. I read these words, “Believing is all a child does for a living.” Kurtis Lamekin, poet

Tis’ the season when this is literally truer than any other. Mark Nepo who used the quote in, “The Book of Awakening,” said to our detriment the older we get the more we lose believing like a child. So how does this relate to writing a letter to you on this cold December morning?

The swirling smoke haze in the room reminds me of my swirling head thoughts. My computer was beside me on the loveseat. I thought, “just do it.” Order your swirling thoughts and write them using the computer, a major departure from my normal routine of handwriting first and then typing. I could not imagine releasing my thoughts to anything other than a notebook and black pen. I didn’t believe it would work for me. The small tribe of children in my world believe that I can do anything. They don’t know any better yet. I decided to believe they were right and opened the computer.

I feel uncomfortable. I say to myself, “This is too time consuming. Go back to what to you know.” I don’t. I have committed to writing a letter to you. Why write a letter? I love letters. I believe that you might too. There is something nostalgic about them… tis’ the season for nostalgia.

Recently, I rediscovered notes written by my mother and a letter from her youngest sister, Aunt Nettie. The letter was dated and postmarked August 30, 2000, two years before my mother died. My mother’s ponderings about societal challenges were as relevant today as they were twenty-five years ago. My aunt’s letter, sixty-seven words, simply stated her current health challenges, wished good health for my mother, and thanked my mother for a photo. Both reminded me of the precious gift of the written word when the speaker is no longer able to speak. My mother and aunt used pencils and paper, the tools of their age. The tools of my age are different. I can write and another person read, seeming instantaneously, a tool not available to them. I wonder if either ever believed that was possible.

Children still write letters to Santa believing their wishes will be granted. With childlike faith, I am writing a letter to you and believing that you too will rediscover the amazement of believing in yourself and others like a child. It is a great way to live.

Sincerely Yours and Merry Christmas

Gwen

Hebrews 11:1

PONDER THIS THOUGHT---Believing like a child is not anti-adulting.