9. The Blessing of Touch
Once the feast is on the table, I clasp hands with my son and husband as we bow our heads and quietly meet within a moment of silence before eating. My husband’s hand is roughened from hauling in wood through the snow to fill the woodstove. My son’s is smooth from writing for hours upon hours at a computer keyboard.
I have too many blessings to count.
10. The Blessing of Sight
On Christmas night, a hundred men and women come out of the mountain darkness surrounding the old meetinghouse and traverse the candlelit path to its door. They’ve come to sing carols, light candles, compare the size of their woodpiles, and stand together in the Presence.
But each one stops as he or she approaches the door and quietly marvels at the vision of each star sparkling within the night sky high above the meetinghouse.
The beauty of this simple place opens us to the possibility of wonder.
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