Christmas Acres is the town where I wish I could live. A beautiful place that exists only in the corner of my mind. It's a place where you know your neighbors, where every door has a wreath, and the homes are lit from within by the fire in the hearth and the warm hearts that reside there.
It's a place that transcends time. Sometimes it is clean and modern. Other times it is the most old-fashioned little throw-back of a town you could imagine. But always it is a beautiful place to spend an evening.
On a day like today, when troubling news arrives, and times are stressful, I close my eyes and imagine myself there.
I'm sitting in a padded rocking chair rocking my beautiful little baby girl Icelynne to sleep, while I watch the stars shining clear and bright in the autumn sky. I watch as the young newlyweds that live down the street take their nightly walk, hand in hand. Short puffs of steam escape their lips as they converse, about what I can only imagine. I remember when my husband and I were first married, and the magic that comes with starting out in the world together. Oh, to recapture those early years. The thought reminds me of the tiny bundle of warmth in my arms, and staring down at her I retract my wish. This is the time. I can imagine ten years from now wishing for this night, sitting here with my baby girl, cheeks flushed, wrapped in a woolen blanket, snuggled in, all trust and love. She squirms a little, hearing the dog's claws click across the hardwood as she trots over to snuggle up at my feet in front of the fire. Letting out a satisfied sigh, she flips onto her back, allowing the warmth to sweep over her underbelly, and she lets sleep overtake her. I reposition my darling daughter on my shoulder, and lean back in the chair. Soon there will be snow. I look forward to it. I can't wait to take her out to play. For now though, it's important to enjoy the moment because all too quickly it will pass.
I open my eyes. It is cold in here. I see the glare of my computer monitor. Outside, the rain pelts my window, and I hear a bottle smashing in the street. My dog raises a warning in response, which wakes the baby, making her cry. She'll need me to walk her back to sleep. These moments have their own charm, and in time, I'm sure will be remembered fondly. But for now, I'll use my brush to soften the edges, to paint a prettier picture.
Yes, if I close my eyes, I am there. I am in Christmas Acres, and it is beautiful.