I stepped outside this morning. 

A couple of inches of freshly fallen snow blanketed the ground.

Everything was so calm and bright.

I know that in a couple of hours, the wind will come up, and the temperature will rise.

By this evening, the pristine world I looked upon this morning will have returned to its dormant gray and two-day old coffee brown colors. 

But just for a bit, I caught a glimpse of Christmas this morning.

A glimpse of little children who are eternally happy; where they run free all day long and never get tired.

A glimpse of quiet times, sitting nearby a loved one, where words are too feeble to describe what we are looking upon.

Where music becomes visible, as it dances up, and runs along the top of the walls, then leaps down to the courtyard below and courses through the singing happy throng, skipping out among the hills, and, in a burst of euphoria, joins other music that continually encircles the dome.

Family gatherings, where each one is loved and included, and time together never gets long.

Where, just over the next hill, I know another joyous reunion awaits with other friends I haven’t seen in a while.

Because all are friends, all are family.

It comforts me somehow, to think that those who have left us recently are celebrating an eternal Christmas.

Where all is so calm and peaceful.  All is so perfectly bright and whole.