Moments before the tumult of the paper toss...My Santa-baby lays under the tree before the children rise and jump on him

Only one real child is still at home. Everyone else is grown, but they are still children to us. I am very grateful for the elongation of the maternal season that we enjoy. When they are gone the empty nest is a fountain of memories, but for now the memories are still in the generator.

Father-bear loves the nightlong vigil of commitment and intensity. I am always a willing, but incapable armorbearer. We carry the torch into the memory generator, like there is a treasure in that cave and there is. There are memories that are treasured, just for us. Just for the page of Christmas that is Ezra's 11th Christmas and Ethan's 15th. We are all still watching the men that they will become. Enoch, at 20 is still watching the family develop and participating as an adult now. The fledgling college woman carries her womanly spectacles and puts them on and takes them off as it suits her. She is a woman, when she wants her way and a child when she wants it that way also. The women are like all of the elves in Santa's workshop. They have the invaluable tasks of galavanting and creating the festive mood. Elyse at 28, carries the orchestra baton in her bag. I think that she and Grandma Monica, must have met somewhere between earth and heaven she is so much like her. Emily, my clone is 24 and the bossiest boots in the bunch. We couldn't have found this bunch of treasured memories without their capable services. Santa and I fall into place and follow our directions and the wonders of Christmas Present unwrap themselves as they have for our 31 Christmases together.

Our Christmas Treasure chest always seems more full than we can bear and there couldn't be another wonder to observe, enjoy, or complain about, as we always do all of the above. Still there is another chest of memories to discover and enjoy. The Circle is still unbroken and remains a blessed privilege to encompass. All Hail the Power of Jesus Name!