I have to admit that I have been struggling to feel the spirit of Christmas this time around, instead feeling mainly a sense of panic at a seemingly insurmountable list of 'things that must be done'.
Occasionally though my gloom melts a little. Yesterday I went to pick up five year old from school after watching her school nativity in the morning. She was beaming from ear to ear when I told her how much her little sister and I had enjoyed watching her sing. I had managed to fight back the tears as I walked into the school hall for the event, but only just.
Anyway, whilst waiting in the queue outside her classroom at end of school time I noticed a Christmas 'wish tree' her class had made. Each child had written something on a piece of paper to hang on a branch. Amongst the wishes for parties, pancakes and other such things, I spotted my little girl's name. Her piece of paper had a picture of a little heart, neatly coloured in, with the words: "A heart for mummy."
Tears? Oh yes. I apologise in advance if this sounds corny, but I am truly grateful that this Christmas the words of wise five year old are helping to teach me a new meaning and depth to the word 'love'.