Article December 8, 1997 Issue

Christmas holidays kept peaceful

Mary Neale Stutt

I'll never forget one year when my husband and I were preparing to go away with the children for the Christmas holidays. I had been writing Christmas cards, stringing lights in the living room, baking—the whole bit. I was frankly dreading the trip, as this holiday season was getting me down! Our toddler was fussing, and the baby wouldn't settle down to nurse.

Then came our departure day. My husband had left for work early in the morning. He was to return at noon when we'd be starting off in the car. When he stepped in the door at ten after twelve, however, the car wasn't packed, the children weren't ready, and I was nursing the baby. He didn't say a word but looked at me as if to say, "What have you been doing all morning?" I'd been working nonstop!

I never had a repeat of those particular circumstances, but for many years following I dreaded the month of December. I knew Christmas was supposed to be a time of peace and goodwill, and yet for me it was anything but that.

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