The color of pancakes and real maple syrup with raspberries for lunch because there was too much yelling in the morning.
The color of decorations made for mom in a Kindergarten-past.
The color family gathering to visit, eat, drink, and act like kids:
just for a night.
The color of Mama trying to boost a languid, depleted immune system: winter virus, not enough sleep, and heartaches that are not easily mended, take a toll even on wanna-be "super moms".
The color of Christmas tree farms: a tradition that despite circumstances cannot be missed.
The color of our hope.
The color of The Light.
"angels bending near the Earth to touch their harps of gold".
The color of hand crafted therapy, and our back door wreath that does not really look like a wreath, but is really pretty, and gives those who are forced to wait at our back door in the freezing cold something interesting to look at (we rarely hear when someone raps on our door: our house is much too loud).
It is the color of:
"Honey I'm sorry but I just CANNOT make a cake tonight".
A Mother's stroke of genius that proves: lit candles in a half gallon of birthday cake ice cream delights a three-year-old birthday girl just as much.
The jewel-toned color of cold clear sunny December skies against pungent smelling evergreens.
The colors of Family Christmas Memories that will out shine the stress and the pain; that promises to burn hotter and deeper inside of us more than the shallow cuts of disappointments and un-answered questions.
Here is to a life full of richness.