Christmas in Bethlehem. The ancient dream: a cold, clear night made brilliant by a glorious star, the smell of incense, read more

Christmas in Bethlehem. The ancient dream: a cold, clear night made brilliant by a glorious star, the smell of incense, shepherds and wise men falling to their knees in adoration of the sweet baby, the incarnation of perfect love.

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, we hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, read more

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, we hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, and etched on vacant places are half-forgotten faces of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know.

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
read more

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Did you ever notice that life seems to follow certain patterns? Like I noticed that every year around this time, read more

Did you ever notice that life seems to follow certain patterns? Like I noticed that every year around this time, I hear Christmas music.

I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the read more

I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the message of Christmas. We are never alone. Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the world seemingly most indifferent. For this is still the time God chooses.

And the Baron's retainers were blithe and gay,
And keeping their Christmas holiday.

And the Baron's retainers were blithe and gay,
And keeping their Christmas holiday.

My Christmas present to myself each year is to see how much air travel can open up the world and read more

My Christmas present to myself each year is to see how much air travel can open up the world and take me to places as far from sheltered California and Japan as possible.

It was the calm and silent night!
Seven hundred years and fifty-three
Had Rome been growing up read more

It was the calm and silent night!
Seven hundred years and fifty-three
Had Rome been growing up to might
And now was queen of land and sea.
No sound was heard of clashing wars,
Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain;
Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars,
Held undisturbed their ancient reign,
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago.

Christmas is for children. But it is for grown-ups too. Even if
it is a headache, a chore, and read more

Christmas is for children. But it is for grown-ups too. Even if
it is a headache, a chore, and a nightmare, it is a period of
necessary defrosting of chilled hidebound hearts.