I don’t know about you, but I have always loved the holidays. I’m not religious, and I’m not much of a shopper, but I love the scent of fresh pine in my home and the glow of colorful Christmas lights adorning the outside of it. I love the taste of mulled wine, pumpkin pie, and latkes (which my mother makes for Hanukkah, though we are not Jewish). I even love the sparkly, glittery wrapping paper that makes a mess all over my living room carpet every year. For me, the holidays bring back a sense of joy and enchantment with the world, which was constant and effortless in childhood. During the holidays, I am reminded what it’s like to believe in magic.
The older I get, the harder this becomes. Even as I write, I am aware that it has been less than a month since the attacks in Paris, and just over a week since the tragic shootings in San Bernardino. But this is all the more reason to let ourselves become enchanted again. After all, the celebrations of this season have always been about bringing light into the darkest time of year. (READ MORE)
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