Our first year of seminary, Daryl and I decided not to decorate for Christmas. It was our first married Christmas, so we didn't have any decorations yet, much less any money to buy any. We were madly writing papers (and this was before Princeton changed its curriculum so that finals were before Christmas!), Daryl was taking an overload of credits, I was teaching two classes, and we were just too busy. Besides, we would be leaving on December 21 to travel home to Wisconsin, where we'd visit my family who would have decorated the house like crazy.
After we had mutually decided this, I was inwardly really sad. We didn't have the money for a tree or decorations, really, and it was the wise decision, but I LOVE Christmas. I listen to Christmas music year-round, I love it so much. Still, I was determined to keep a stiff upper lip and not let on that I was sad. After all, we were on a budget. We really didn't have time. Seminary meant sacrifice, and I could do without ornaments or wreaths for a year or two (or three).
One night, a week or so later, Daryl went out to buy groceries. About half an hour later, there was a knock at the door. Odd, since I wasn't expecting anyone. I went to the door and found Daryl, who asked, "Can you help me with this?"
Behind him was an enormous, six-foot tall Christmas tree.
I've hardly ever felt so loved.
1 comment:
Stop making me cry! =)
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