The Woods were clear and cold with a brilliant blue sky. Deer roamed freely without fear of the orange vests. The Woods look different in the sunlight. Most things do. So it goes with our complex lives. What seems dim in the shadows is revealed in the light. Off we go into the wild blue yonder. 2026 is upon us, and we barely knew 2025. Most tell me that 2025 was a difficult year for them. I understand.

New Orleans is callin’ our names. A ride on Amtrak and hopefully a nap or two on the journey. My friend Matt B says to be sure to see Preservation Hall. He also told me to drink a beer or two for him. I will do so. Our last visit to New Orleans was in May of 2013, and it was humid and hot. After a few steps, our clothes were wet. I learned I did not want to be encased in a mausoleum after the cemetery guide described what happens to a body in the Louisiana heat in a mausoleum. This time, the weather should be more accommodating.

Seekers, we are on a mission and purpose. We carry our ragged souls and sick bodies toward home. Some of us are walking with walking sticks, while others are in wheelchairs. We have been in the thick of the battle. Beaten but unbowed. A bit bloody about the ears, but in good spirits. After all, we are on our way home.

‘Get On Board,’ Mr. Conductor says. ‘The New 2026 is preparing to disembark,’ Mr. Conductor continued. ‘Old 2025 will be chugging into the station shortly,’ the Conductor said with a mischievous grin. ‘He has seen a lot of living and been places we have not been,’ Clarence Conductor said with a wink. ‘Why, I remember when he was just a baby and full of piss and vinegar,’ CC laughed. ‘Baby 2025 had big ideas and plans for several years, although he only had one year to fulfill his herculean goals,’ Clarence Conductor admonished. ‘Baby 2025’s eyes were bigger than his stomach. He wanted to eat it all and do it all and be all in all,’ Clarence noted with sad eyes. ‘A year goes by so fast, and there is a cacophony of voices calling from the Cheap Seats,’ CC said. ‘Build bigger, some say, while others counsel to save your money,’ Clarence Conductor noted. ‘You have more time than money the crowd yells as others in the audience say tonight thy sould shall be required of thee,’ Clarence said with a whisper. ‘Give us Barabas, the angry throng screams while the Baby of December is sent to the Cross,’ Clarence said as he then played Silent Night on his Tenor Saxophone.

Today was the Great Deconstruction. The Christmas Tree is put up. Santas and Nativities are in their annual hideaway. Big Santa is resting in his cabinet until next November. His Little Buddy is resting with him. The Great Decoration Project took three hours, and the Great Deconstruction took just over one hour. Change is just over the next hill. There is a life of plenty, there is a life of want. There is the fat of the land, there is the Dust Bowl. We will laugh, we will cry.

It is complicated, the young folks say. Getting up and facing the day has challenges. We bring a small armada with us into every skirmish. Our past battles, victories, and defeats walk with us into the New Year. We would second-guess more if we had the time. The mission we should choose to accept is to live the next day with newness and a fresh spirit. We bring one complex person to the performance. The frightened, insecure person of the night and the daydreamer. We are the people who feel small one day and gigantic the next. We hide in the shadows and take big steps into the sun.

‘The New Year will bring us into lives we have not thought about,’ Chet said. ‘Each person is a word, a sentence, a paragraph, or an entire chapter in our life,’ Chet continued. ‘An obscure meeting can change our direction,’ Chet noted. ‘We think we are continuing as the same person we were when we were young, but each interaction with another brings a change in our trajectory,’ Chet smiled. ‘Subtle at first, but growing as we age, we notice where we made a turn on the road back home due to the influence of someone we met,’ Chet mused. ‘These changes become part of our sense of place,’ Chet explained. ‘We are characters in the Grand Production, and each of our parts is vital to the success of the journey,’ Chet said.

‘Parting is so sad until you realize that it is temporary,’ Neva J said. ‘People who are gone are not really gone,’ Neva J continued. ‘They stand in the shadows and behind the door and near the trees of the Woods, watching and waiting for a reunion,’ Neva J noted with a laugh. ‘All of the folks in our lives are still with us,’ Neva J explained.

Pastor Kerry retires at the end of 2025. Two days from now. I did not know him well, but he affected my outlook and my writing. Kerry has such a bright outlook on delivering his sermons and lovely humor that he caused me to rethink my writing. I focus more on stories and feel-good themes with a message. Political decisions made to harm people upset me, and for a few years, I expressed these feelings openly and unapologetically. Pastor Kerry taught me a more compassionate way to write, not knowing that he had. Kerry’s love for children’s stories, which he often reads during a section of our Sunday Service dedicated to children, influenced my writing more in the direction of children’s stories. Kerry will go on to help many others and influence them in positive ways he may not realize.

So the Christmas Weekend is coming to a close. Time keeps on marching. Forever can go by quickly. Days seem long and years short. We set our sails for the troubled sea of 2026. It is not our first voyage. Shall we make resolutions, or shall we live with a sense of place each day? Circumstances change, we do not. Many are introverts. Not all people are people persons. We love humanity; it is the individuals who are challenging. Introverts watch people. They love the interaction that they observe. We are a bit reluctant to participate. After holiday revelry, we must recharge. We introverts have to think and ponder what just happened. There are places for everyone in our hearts, one at a time.

‘Be sure and pack the sunburn protectant,’ SC said. ‘I will be glad to see the beach after the drop in temperature at home,’ SC grinned. ‘It was a successful Christmas by all accounts,’ SC continued. ‘There is so much more to do,’ SC sighed. ‘Let’s take the taller beach chairs, as it is increasingly difficult to sit in the ones that are so near the sand,’ SC laughed. ‘We are getting older, MaMa, and I wonder how much longer we will be able to do what we do,’ SC questioned. ‘My knees hurt, and I have to think about rising from my easy chair,’ SC noted with chagrin. ‘Each year, more of my abilities are leaving me, although I reach and grasp to claw them back,’ SC said. ‘I walked the beach for miles past January. Now I walk slowly and take a lot of photos,’ Santa Claus noted with a benevolent smile. ‘Nevertheless, we will eat Gulf shrimp tonight and watch the peaceful ocean,’ Santa said.

So the end-of-year people gathered. They came from the four corners of the Earth. Some had backpacks while others carried no possessions. Many were reluctant to join the journey with so many diverse people whom they did not know. People from other lands and cultures who dressed and looked different from those they grew up around. The Introverts came with quiet and wide eyes. They watched as many gathered on the road home. The Introverts saw that everyone was helping the person next to them. It seemed that no one was left out. It was good to be a member of the Happy Travelers. What a great club to be a part of! The Happy Travelers or HTs were a diverse and gregarious bunch. Quiet people and those who spoke loudly walked hand in hand. Some had clear eyes, others had cataracts walking arm in arm along the rocky, hilly path. Some had stopped along the route. They were tired and sick, weary of the year-by-year walk toward home. Their feelings were bruised. It seemed they had been left out of the mission. ‘I will sit on the sidelines and watch the parade pass,’ the Introvert said. ‘My abilities are meager, and others see my dearth of resources,’ Mr. Introvert said. ‘Many have more ability and education to address the vagaries of the Path,’ Mr. Introvert noted. ‘My strength is watching and learning,’ Mr. Introvert postulated. ‘2026 is at our doorstep, perhaps it is time for all Introverts to come to the aid of their country,’ Mr. Introvert said with conviction. ‘The challenges of the New Year will require the best of all, including the millions of Introverts, to negotiate the Rock Path Home,’ Mr. Introvert said with a tear in his eye.

So Christmas was wonderful with Jennifer and Lee joining us at the Lake. It was a special time. Our eyes fix on the end of the Old Year and the beginning of the New Year. Each year passes more rapidly than the last. The New Year will be a continuation of our uncharted journey. The mystery of not knowing what is around the next corner is exhilarating and challenging. Life is a Through Line with many changes along the path.

We intend to explore New Orleans in the New Year. We have been there before, but it has been several years. The South fascinates me. The kind greetings and being called ‘Honey’ in restaurants are a refreshing addition to the regularity of life. Southern States have a slower pace that affords time to think about the next step.

Learn how to Mosey is good advice. Mosey is what Jennifer says regarding her exploration of the Woods. Mosey, I understand. Everything does not have to be done in the space of a thirty-minute sitcom. Decisions are not all spontaneous. Success is incremental. Indeed, all success is incremental. The hope of 2026 is rooted in a sense of place.

Keep moving is the key. We are on our way home. Put one foot in front of the other. Moving breeds positive thought. Positive thoughts bring hope and a plan for tomorrow.

‘I think there should be New Year’s gifts as there are Christmas gifts,’ Neva J said. ‘After all, the Advent of Christ’s birth is the beginning of our faith journey,’ Neva J continued. ‘He lives among us now. What are we going to do about it?’ Neva J asked. ‘Now is the time for all good people to come to the aid of their country, to paraphrase President Kennedy,’ Neva J proclaimed. ‘So many need a helping hand, warm clothes, and something to eat,’ Neva J noted. ‘Christmas is simply only the Beginning, the job and assignment has just begun,’ Neva J laughed. ‘Perhaps we are tired…get up and move,’ Neva J ordered with feeling. ‘We say not me Lord, I am old…act like you are young and take up your cross and follow the Baby,’ Neva J said with tears in her eyes.

It is going to be a warm Christmas. Perhaps a record breaker. The children are nestled all snug in their beds. We wait for the promise. Since our youth, we were taught to believe. As time and chance bring change, we embrace it for its possibilities.

The Christmas Puzzle is ready to be put together. The one thousand pieces are there in random order. What is our role in life and where do we fit in the puzzle? Listen, we do more than speak. By listening and watching, we begin to see the puzzle pieces take their place. The piece that seems necessary is often the key to the puzzle’s answer.

The Old Man walked in the Christmas Woods. The deer walked with him and asked him if he was coming to the Christmas Eve Service. ‘We will have a feast before Christmas,’ Herman said. ‘Now by a feast I mean we are getting pizzas from Dominos as they are on Christmas Eve sale and we all know there will be some belt loosening Christmas Day,’ Herman Deer continued. ‘There will be homemade fudge and Christmas Coffee Cake, Figgy Pudding and pumpkin pie, ‘Herman Deer added. ‘Mr. Badger and Mr. Mole are coming along with Toady and Ratty, and they are coming by boat with Toady manning the mainsail,’ Herman laughed. ‘Next year shall be better, we will live in more peace, we will listen to our hearts and not our wallets,’ Herman promised.

‘I am going to the Christmas Eve Service, it will be Pastor Kerry’s last as he is retiring,’ Chet noted. ‘It will be a marvelous and poigniant affair with poinsettias and Christmas Trees, garland and Christmas Songs,’ Chet said with a big smile. ‘We will sing Silent Night by candlelight,’ Chet observed. ‘Our hearts will be set in peace and place and purpose for the present and the future,’ Chet said. ‘We are fellow travelers and friends who must help each other make the rest of our journey home,’ Chet explained.

‘I see the Star in the eastern sky,’ Wiseman said. ‘We must follow it to where the Baby lies,’ Wiseman said. ‘He will bring peace where there is strife and hope to replace despair,’ Wiseman said with a tear in his eyes. ‘Truth will replace lies and hurtful, mean words meant to destroy people,’ Wiseman said. ‘The hope of all of us comes under the cover of night with a Star to lead the way to a manger in a barn surrounded by sheep and oxen and shepherds to record the event of the Earth,’ Wiseman observed with a look to the Star that was leading him.

‘Come and get your Christmas Quilt,’ Grandma A said. ‘I worked on it back in the Spring to keep you warm and safe in the New Year,’ Grandmas A continued. ‘I prayed for you and thought of you for the coming cold and ice while you enjoyed warm days of spring,’ Grandma A said. ‘Christ has made preparations for us as we travel up the road of life to our home,’ Grandma A promised.

So MJ and the Old Man got out yesterday and acted like big people. What better time than the Christmas Season to enjoy the city at Christmastime? The Fox Theatre was packed to see The Nutcracker Ballet. Arriving a bit early, we stopped into the Theatre’s Resturant Curtain Call, where the kind bartender told me that her specialty was Old Fashioneds. When I joyfully accepted, she asked did I wanted one bitter or two, and I thought in my holiday revelry why not two. She spoke of Christmas shopping and buying 30 Holiday Candles on sale. The Old Man thought… a wise decision.

The Holiday Air is electric in the City at Christmas. Many had their holiday regalia and sparkled. There were selfies all over the house. Ballet is a lovely art. The dancers seem etheral. Soon, we were in another world of dance and dreams. As I saw the lights of the Fox Marguee and the decorations of the City, I was taken aback to Chicago so many years ago when we saw Lady And The Tramp at the Theatre. When we pulled into the parking garage, the attendant asked me if anyone had told me that I looked like the actor Sean Connery. I told him that he was the first.

We were on to Bartolinos for dinner. After a short wait, we enjoyed the best Sicilian Ravioli I have ever had the pleasure of. The Christmas Mood was jubilant in the famous eatery. MJ observed that everyone seemed to know each other. There was live music, and spirits were at their zenith.

MJ Aaron, Jonathon, and the Old Man saw The Nutcracker at Shryock Auditorium over thirty years ago. The performance yesterday must have had over 50 performers. There were many children in the troupe.
What an uplifting experience. What a great Old Fashioned. I must take my bartender’s invitation to return, and she would make me another.

Winter Solstice has arrived. The shortest day of the year. After this, they become a little longer each day. The darkness is a Christmas Quilt to wrap ourselves in. ‘The stockings have been hung by the chimney with care.’ We anticipate the birth of the Baby. We follow the Star to the manger. For a moment, life stands still. The fears and concerns of day-to-day life stop out of respect for the Christ Child.

The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy swirls about the Theatre audience. A resonant bass voice arises from the back of the House. We Three Kings, he sings. We are proud of our memory of small things, but enjoy the temporary cleansing of the bad ones in preparation for the joy of the ages.

This is where we settle and wait for the beckoning of home. The Old Man has been on the road to Home for a while. The Star shows the way. Some say, Look at me, I am great with land and money. Others plead look away from me, for I am poor and wretched, blind and hungry. We are all traveling Home.

‘Sit at the Christmas Feast with me,’ the Preacher said. ‘There is plenty for everyone,’ the Preacher continued. ‘I am pleased to see you brought your Christmas Quilts with you as the weather gets a bit chilly on the First Day of Winter,’ the Preacher laughed. ‘We are different in many ways yet the same in our Father’s preparation for our journey,’ the Preacher noted. ‘Each of you has a wonderful homemade Christmas Quilt that shields you from the cold,’ the Preacher explained. ‘Change is coming, and it is just around the corner,’ the Preacher said. ‘The powerful, influential, and rich did not see the change when Christ was born, as it was hidden from their eyes,’ the Preacher continued. ‘We wait with the family of the Forest for the revealing of the Secret,’ the Preacher said, laughing happily.

‘I want a Christmas Quilt for Christmas,’ Jane said. ‘I can think of nothing else that would be more comforting and fun than a homemade Christmas Quilt made by Grandma A,’ Jane continued. ‘She makes them all year, and they provide warmth and solace to many,’ Jane noted.

‘Grandma A is making with her own hands a gift that money can not buy…she is giving the love of the Baby Jesus,’ Neva J said. ‘You will have her Christmas Quilt all of your life,’ Neva J promised. ‘This year we sisters are all helping Grandma A make many Christmas Quilts for the homeless,’ Neva J said.

The Old Man observed that the last day of autumn was lovely. A warm southerly breeze was blowing. Squirrels were playing in the trees. A young woman was holding on to her partner’s shoulder. The Woods was quiet. It is the weekend before Christmas. The Old Man’s favorite season is in its last day. It seems it just began. The trees wave their arms in naked glory. Winter makes its debut tomorrow. Winter is the Old Man’s second-favorite season. Never a summer fan, he likes the cool and cold. The sublime quiet of winter is calming and gives a sense of place. Winter lets you know that you’re not in charge. There are forces greater than I. We are here on a lease from the landlord. One day, the lease will be up.

The Old Man keeps Christmas all year. Santa is smiling from the shelves daily. There is only so much negative words and mean actions that can be absorbed before a change occurs. ‘The name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters turned bitter, and many people died from the waters that had become bitter.’

‘Mom, when will Santa Claus come?’ Herschel asked. ‘I have given him my wish list, and he assured me that he would visit our home,’ Herschel continued. ‘I want a Red Ryder BB Gun just like Ralphie received in the Movie A Christmas Story,’ Herschel said. ‘I promised I would not shoot my eye out,’ Herschel laughed. ‘I hope Santa did not forget,’ Herschel murmured.

‘I want peace on earth,’ Helen. said. ‘If Santa can bring peace on earth, I will be happy as if I had received a Thumbelina doll,’ Helen grinned. ‘Although my backup request was for a Thumbelina doll and a Barbie doll, along with peace on earth,’ Helen laughed. ‘I have no desire for a Red Ryder BB Gun, although Hershcel can talk of little else,’ Helen commented. ‘Barbie is new this year, and I pointed out to Santa that if he would see fit to bring me one, when I become old, Barbie will be worth a lot of money on eBay,’ Helen giggled and danced.

‘It will be difficult to pull off the peace on earth request of Helen, but we can start with having a dinner each week for the homeless in our town,’ Mom said. ‘If there is to be peace, it must begin with us,’ Mom said. ‘Also, I purchased the last new Barbie, which is selling like hot cakes,’ Mom did an Irish Jig.

‘Well, I would like a bit of peace on earth too,’ Herschel said. ‘I weary of the fighting and hidden agendas of many I encounter,’ Herschel continued. ‘We humans are best in the study of war and think little of peace,’ Herschel noted. ‘We have enough nuclear bombs to destroy the world many times over, and we mistakenly call the war plan deterrence,’ Herschel proclaimed. ‘The old words speak of beating our spears into pruning hooks: ‘They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.’For a backup plan, I would love to have a Red Ryder BB Gun and a Daniel Boone Action Figure that looks like the actor Fess Parker, who portrays him on television,’ Herschel said with feeling. ‘Isn’t this what we are celebrating, the birth of the Baby Jesus in the manger surrounded by the animals of the stable Wisemen and Shepherds who followed the Star of Bethlehem, Herschel asked. ‘We are all made of the same stuff,’ Herschel said. ‘We are brothers and sisters,’ Herschel observed.

The object of our hope draws nigh. We wait for the Baby and the promise of his coming. Our world has always been a troubled sea. Our little boats toss and rise on the waves of life and then return to their level position, sometimes with a terrible thud. Our furniture is askew. The sail has been shredded. Our clothes are soaked and torn from the storm. We watch for the elusive promise of peace.

When MJ Aaron, Jonathon, and the much younger Old Man visited First Presbyterian Church in Carbondale, we felt welcome. It was close to time for the trimming of a massive Christmas Tree in the Narthex. The joy of Christmas beamed from the friendly faces. Soon it was time for our first Christmas Eve Service. It began at 11:00 pm. It felt like a Charles Dickens Christmas Story. I could see Tiny Tim in the corner singing with all of his yuletide heart. Pastor Richard preached like an old-time pastor in Victorian England. The historic church was packed. Then came the candlelight singing of Silent Night. An enduring Christmas Memory. There was an aura from Heaven in the Sanctuary. The permanence of Christ’s coming resonated in the words. I felt renewed and ready to welcome the Advent of the Baby.

So we wait. Not with mean or hurtful words. We wait with acceptance and appreciation for the Gift. Someone showed us the way. Not retaliation but love.

We returned to our little home in Elkville with our hearts full of the Christmas Spirit. The feelings from the Christmas Eve Service stayed with me for some time. Christ is about helping those who need help. We had found a church home. We were accepted and felt the Christmas Eve experience. The vision of Victorian England and the hope that A Christmas Carol brings to our modern world. Poinsettias and garland, nativities and wreaths adorn our little church. We need a little Christmas right this very minute more than ever. Candles at the window and in our hearts as we wait for a change of hearts and minds and our continued journey home.

One week away. We watch and wait. Some old, some young wait for the promise. Christmas is a much-loved holiday. The pervasive joy of the season permeates all society. For many years, MJ and I attended more than one Christmas Party. Jo Ann and Peter had a lovely, large Christmas Tree. Jo Ann liked Christmas Mice Ornaments. One holiday season, we searched high and low for the elusive yuletide mouse. Then we returned later in the week, just before Christmas, for a gift exchange. A fun holiday event with Maker’s Mark and Diet Coke, and Dirty Martinis.

Stumble, we move toward home. Advice on reaching our goal is as varied as snowflakes. No two opinions are alike. Some believe that many are called, but few are chosen. They take ecclesiastical pride; they are the chosen. Others cry out Lord, show me the way.

‘This will be a great Christmas,’ Chet said with a holiday grin. ‘The Christmas Movie at the Orpheum Theatre was Miracle on Thirty Fourth Street,’ Chet continued. ‘I swear if I did not believe in Santa Claus before, I do now,’ Chet laughed. ‘Santa came to our house earlier in December and sat on our sofa,’ Chet noted with satisfaction. ‘He called me Chet and knew Dad’s name was Carol, and when he said it, he began singing a Christmas Carol,’ Chet winked. ‘As he sang, his head elf Charles joined in on harmony,’ Chet noted. ‘Santa told me to watch for him on Christmas Eve,’ Chet said.

‘This year will be different,’ Santa told the elves as they began loading the sleigh. ‘Life’s Path has been especially rocky and rough for many,’ Santa continued. ‘Children are shut away from their friends and neighbors in fear and dread of meeting new and different people,’ Santa noted. ‘The kids spend hours looking at their screens and engaging in Social Media, believing much of what they see and read,’ Santa warned. ‘Kids are forgetting how to be kids and grow up as worried neurotic young people,’ Santa said with a tear in his eye. ‘This Christmas Eve, we will leave bicycles and camping equipment, compasses and binoculars for the housebound kids,’ Santa laughed so hard his belly shook. ‘Warm coats and leather outback hats, mittens and heavy socks for the joys of winter and building a snowman,’ Santa cackled. ‘Invitations shall be sent to every girl and every boy for dinner with Mom and Dad every evening if they want to enjoy Christmas next year,’ Santa danced on one foot and then the other. ‘Civics will be emphasised and public service,’ Santa noted. ‘It will be Santa’s Assignment for all kids to make a new friend that is different from them each week of the New Year,’ Santa smoked his pipe, and the smoke encircled his head.

‘We will learn the meaning of one for all and all for one,’ Neva J proclaimed. ‘No longer will the lame sit at the side of the road waiting for help, now they shall be our friend and valued for their humanity,’ Neva J said. ‘We will form a Christmas Carolers group and bring the joy of the Holidays to many homes,’ Neva J laughed. ‘We shall turn the anger of small men off and love each other as the Babe in the Manger loved us,’ Neva J said with gusto.