Earlier in the year I wrote about my Grandparents disappearance and then how we found out they had died in a car crash. I wrote about the dream I had of the two of them flying to paradise….. well that was not the end of that year and that is not the end of my story…….
I had moved into my new little cottage after my divorce and I was getting ready to decorate my home for my young children. We had gotten the tree and we put all the bobbles and bulbs on it. There were hand made decorations that the kids had made at school and at my home day care. I hadn’t quite honed in on my pagan touch, but I did have a simmering pot of winter spices on the stove and evergreens and walnuts scattered around the house. The three of us ate cookies and tried to decide what should go on top of the tree. There just wasn’t anything special enough in the decoration box so we decided something would turn up and then we waited.
I believed in magic.
I believed in Christmas miracles.
The winter before I was so broke I knew I would not be able to afford a Christmas tree, but that year I ended up with two. One from my loving parents and one from a dear day care family. Wow! What a miracle.
This year was going to be tough because I was missing my grandparents terribly, and my dad was entering the final stages of cancer. In fact, he died four days after Christmas and twelve days before his 53rd birthday.
One day, when I was out and about doing my chores and picking the kids up from school, I came home to a package on the porch. The box was plain cardboard with no markings; only a label with my name and address on it. I had no idea where it came from, I didn’t order anything, but it was Christmastime, so all was possible.
I took the box into the tiny kitchen and sliced the packing tape with a knife. Sandwiched in between two thick layers of Styrofoam was an elegantly decorated angel. She was clothed in red velvet (my grandma’s favorite color), with white fur trim. She held a nest with a red bird in it (my grandma loved birds, they were all over her house; figurines on the windowsill, pictures on the wall, even a parakeet in a cage from time to time; owls were her favorite). She was garnished with a sash of evergreen. Her hair and eyes were brown, like Grandma’s.
An Earth Angel.
I set her on the table and I felt goosebumps and shivers. Somehow this beloved angel made it to my door. How it did, I don’t know. But I without a doubt knew who sent it. The kids and I were so excited to have this beautiful angel to top our Christmas tree.
It was the Yuletide of 1994 and my precious earth angel has graced my home every winter from then on. Sometimes she sits atop the tree (fastened very securely!), sometimes she is the centerpiece on the dining room table, and others a fixture at the hearth. Grandma watching over us.
I took her out today, placing her on the living room coffee table, that way I can pass by her all day long. I will be 53 in three days. I am already living on the borrowed time of my Dad’s life. I am struggling right now, trying to resolve my regrets and decide what I want from my life. I am looking for joy that seems to elude me. I believe in magic and miracles, I have hope and I have this loving earth angel to guide me.
Going into the dark time this year will be deeper than the battle of the Oak and Holly Kings for me. It will be one of angelic peace I’ll invoke by casting away demons and leaving them in the past.
I am taking hiatus from life, a break. I am allowing healing to take place in the dark and quiet winter. I planted some bulbs and infused them with trust. When the first crocus peaks from the earth I will know my direction and will readily jump, with both feet, into the new year, the new light, and my renewed life.
May Yuletide ensure all your transitions of the dark and dream time be grand. Blessings and light to you as we prepare a new journey around the wheel of the year.
Blessed Yule, Merry Christmas, and Peace on Earth xo