Christmas in the Lake District
Merry Christmas! Or, shall I say Happy Christmas! Today was a day unlike any other Christmas day I've ever had, and yet, we found a way to weave so many wonderful Christmas traditions and comforts of home into our own holiday here in the Lake District. It was absolutely perfect. I cooked a traditional southern breakfast complete with sausage biscuits and grits (all the way from Alabama), but we also enjoyed wearing the crowns found in our crackers this morning, mixing in a British tradition with our morning routine. We shared the corny jokes and sang along to Christmas songs we know by heart and tapped our toes to some British Christmas songs added to the playlist.
We read the Christmas story from Luke, and then, one of my very favorite Christmas pieces, "Yes, Virginia." I'm not sure what it is about this article, but it always brings a smile to my face and a warmth to my heart. Just in case you don't know this beautiful story, I will share it with you:
After a very lazy morning, we decided to venture out. The weather has not been superb, but we had a break in the rain this afternoon and went for a wee walk about. Despite the fog, the beauty that surrounds us is truly breath-taking! We didn't get in the car, but rather just walked on foot around the hills that surround us. It is absolutely beautiful!
It gets dark here around 4:30, so by the time we made it back to the house, it was time to start dinner. I made my pasta sauce, a sauce that carries with it some delicious taste and some wonderful memories. Almost ten years ago, when I was in college, I took a cooking class in Italy one summer. It was the first time I had truly been away from home, a summer when I learned a lot about myself and about cooking. I remember being in near tears the first day after class, realizing how very little I truly knew about cooking, but by the end, I had developed enough confidence to feel comfortable in the kitchen. Although we made new dishes nearly everyday, there is only one dish that I make on a regular basis. This pasta sauce tastes best when it has simmered for hours, letting the smell waft throughout the house.
While waiting for the sauce to perfect, I read two short Christmas stories to my parents. One of them was a new one for me this year, one that I found from a British author about a story I know very well. As legend has it, on Christmas, during World War I, both sides stopped fighting and even shared in song across the battlefield. Michael Morpurgo wrote a beautiful retelling of this story, just as Garth Brooks sings the same story in "Belleau Wood." Then, I read one of my new favorite stories. A few years ago, my friend, Susan, who was at the time the librarian at Shades Cahaba read a story to the students by Lemony Snicket, author of the popular Series of Unfortunate Events. This story, "The Lump of Goal" is witty and charming, but also full of reminders about how wonderful our own lives truly are. "Miracles are like pimples, because once you start looking for them, you find more than you ever dreamed you'd see."
Life truly is full of miracles and full of blessings that abound around me, around us all. This Christmas, I hope you take the time to count the blessings in your life, finding all of those miracles around you. I wish you the very Merriest of Christmases!
We read the Christmas story from Luke, and then, one of my very favorite Christmas pieces, "Yes, Virginia." I'm not sure what it is about this article, but it always brings a smile to my face and a warmth to my heart. Just in case you don't know this beautiful story, I will share it with you:
DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'
Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?
VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'
Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?
VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
After a very lazy morning, we decided to venture out. The weather has not been superb, but we had a break in the rain this afternoon and went for a wee walk about. Despite the fog, the beauty that surrounds us is truly breath-taking! We didn't get in the car, but rather just walked on foot around the hills that surround us. It is absolutely beautiful!
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| We may not have had a white Christmas, but we could see snow not too far off! |
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| Even the sheep get all decked out for the holidays! :) |
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| We made our own white Christmas with confetti from the poppers! |
It gets dark here around 4:30, so by the time we made it back to the house, it was time to start dinner. I made my pasta sauce, a sauce that carries with it some delicious taste and some wonderful memories. Almost ten years ago, when I was in college, I took a cooking class in Italy one summer. It was the first time I had truly been away from home, a summer when I learned a lot about myself and about cooking. I remember being in near tears the first day after class, realizing how very little I truly knew about cooking, but by the end, I had developed enough confidence to feel comfortable in the kitchen. Although we made new dishes nearly everyday, there is only one dish that I make on a regular basis. This pasta sauce tastes best when it has simmered for hours, letting the smell waft throughout the house.
While waiting for the sauce to perfect, I read two short Christmas stories to my parents. One of them was a new one for me this year, one that I found from a British author about a story I know very well. As legend has it, on Christmas, during World War I, both sides stopped fighting and even shared in song across the battlefield. Michael Morpurgo wrote a beautiful retelling of this story, just as Garth Brooks sings the same story in "Belleau Wood." Then, I read one of my new favorite stories. A few years ago, my friend, Susan, who was at the time the librarian at Shades Cahaba read a story to the students by Lemony Snicket, author of the popular Series of Unfortunate Events. This story, "The Lump of Goal" is witty and charming, but also full of reminders about how wonderful our own lives truly are. "Miracles are like pimples, because once you start looking for them, you find more than you ever dreamed you'd see."
Life truly is full of miracles and full of blessings that abound around me, around us all. This Christmas, I hope you take the time to count the blessings in your life, finding all of those miracles around you. I wish you the very Merriest of Christmases!
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