True Joy

  
It is not a secret that I like Christmas. I like decorating, cooking, listening to carols, I also like singing them, but I do that alone in the car so as not to ruin the holiday for others. One of the best things about moving to the south is that more people decorate earlier than we did when I lived in the north. Putting your tree up right after Thanksgiving was a custom I had no problem adopting.  
Every year I create one new Christmas decoration. When I say decoration I don’t mean one new ornament on the tree. I am talking about something significant. This year it was a twelve days of Christmas tree that is now on the mantle. The only problem with this annual Christmas addition is that it increases the time it takes to put all the Christmas up.
Today was the day I put the finishing touch on all my decorating by making my front door wreath at my friend Morgan’s wreath making party. Yes, it would be a lot easier to buy a wreath and yes, it would probably look a lot better if I bought one, but since I have been going to Morgan’s for 8 years I just don’t feel like it would be the happiest season if I didn’t make my own wreath.
Morgan generously supplies her guests with ribbons and ornaments of all kinds to add to their creations. Some years back it got out that I was a fairly accomplished bow maker. At first, just my close friends would ask me to fabricate the perfect bow on their homemade wreath. Then guests I was meeting for the first time would ask. Last year my friend Christy and I did not even make wreaths, but instead we stood in the ribbon room and made everyone’s bows.
This year I was a little late for the party because of a basketball game, but I was determined to make my wreath before I went into bow making mode. It was a big square of greenery with a flannel tartan bow. I was late enough that many people were forced to learn to tie their own bows, which were all perfectly gorgeous. I only made about a dozen ribbon creations for other late wreath makers. In the end one of the best creations was a trio of wreaths that spelled out “JOY” with no bows at all.
I came home and hung my wreath on the front door and looked around at all the lights, sparkle and decorations, perfectly satisfied that everything screamed, “Santa, stop here.” But then I thought about the simple “joy” wreaths. That’s all it really takes.  
Next year I could just put up a small creche to symbolize the true meaning of the season. I could and if I do please call the police, because that means the real me has been kidnapped and replaced with an understated, sophisticated version of me. For now I’m keeping all the sparkle and shine.