a year of morning thanks
After sleeping in a bit longer than normal, after a wonderful Christmas worship service capped by a impromptu choir's rendition of the Hallelujah Chorus, after a splendid meal of Iowa ham, mashed potatoes, corn and beans, after opening Christmas presents and a quick trip to the home to visit Grandpa and Grandma, after an hour or so of sledding down a mountain of snow scraped off college parking lots, after late-afternoon brunch of ham sandwiches and a dessert of warm apple pie--after all of that we retired to my kids's house to watch a movie, Wall-E.
Okay, maybe watching a cartoon video wasn't my first choice to cap off a Christmas celebration, but being the captain of the ship means knowing when not to be Ahab.
So we watched Wall-E--well, most of us did. I must admit to fading once in awhile, but I think that somewhere the Bible itself says old men may nod off when the spirit moves 'em--if it doesn't say that, it should anyway.
The antics of a environmentalist junkyard robot who is just about the last living thing on earth kept me awake most of the time, but what thrilled me were the darling giggles of my grandchildren at that robot's antics. I swear, yesterday I couldn't have opened the bow on a present any better than those rippling giggles--so quick and free and generous, so well-meant, so enduringly innocent and child-like.
So this morning, the morning-after, I'm thankful for Christmas--all it means, all it brings; but this old man is especially thankful for the delightful laughter of children, a chorus fully as memorable--yesterday, at least--as anything Handel ever penned.