the spirit of Christmas

It was one of those days.

I had a horrible headache all day and was just miserable.
Kids were obstinate and demanding so much attention that I felt like I couldn't give.
I drained the entire pot of spaghetti down the sink. Literally, the entire thing.
I completely forgot about our 6 pm Celebration of Lights holiday stroll plans until 5:30 pm. And then it was a mad rush of waking napping babies; bundling up tiny, overly energetic people into double pants and double socks and mittens and hats and shoes and winter coats; and getting everyone into the car.
We needed cash for tickets and... we had $1. Of course. So we stopped at an ATM, got some cash, and were off.

Everyone's moods were high and excited. The sense of adventure and fun was upon us. Despite being late, we still managed to find a parking spot. People were everywhere. Lights were everywhere. It was Christmas everywhere.

We made it all the way through the entrance line before Jason discovered his cash was no longer in his pocket. Somewhere in the long walk between the car and the park, through multiple parking lots and even a street crossing, with the blustery winter winds blowing every which way, the money had managed to slip out of his pocket. And just like that, everyone's high moods crashed.

The time it would take to get everyone back to the car and get to another ATM would eat up our already limited time before an already late bedtime for the kids. It just wasn't going to happen. So I knelt down next to the boys and explained that we didn't have the money to get in to see the lights tonight and that we would try to come again tomorrow night and Finley didn't understand why we had to go and Lucas was so disappointed he started crying, and I just felt the frustrations from the whole day piling on top of me in one overwhelming landslide.

And then the Spirit of Christmas arrived. We don't know her name. She knew nothing about us. All she said was, "I've got you covered," and handed cash to the worker at the gate. She told Lucas to dry his tears so he could see the lights. And she was gone.

The lights were beautiful. The cookies were delicious. The boys' joy was infectious. It was a grand night and I will remember it for a good long time. But the thing I'll remember the most is the feeling of gratitude for the woman who made our whole experience possible tonight. The spirit of Christmas is alive and well here.

Thank you, anonymous woman, for giving my boys a real life example of what Christmas looks like inside of a person.