A London celebration with a difference

There are two different ways to tell this story. One way is to say I once spent Christmas alone with my mother, 3,000 miles away from my brother and father, with no presents, no tree, no decorations, no friends. That sounds very sad indeed, doesn't it? But it couldn't be further from the truth—the sad bit, that is. The other more honest way is to say I had one of the best Christmases ever, in spite of the fact that my family was separated—my dad and my brother in sunny California, my mother and I in chilly England.

I believe we can always choose how we view our circumstances. The Christmas I spent in London when I was 17 is still one of my most treasured holidays, because that was the year I learned a holiday can truly be a holy day.

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE
Article
'As I watched the snow fall'
December 20, 2004
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit