Knowing we would like Emma to grow up with an appreciation of the larger world, I have again been thinking about what has to happen before a child can recognize not only the beauty of a sunset but also have that feeling of won­der and awe that floods one's senses with the question of, "How does this happen and from where does all this worldly beauty come?" An age old question that continues to have as much power over our emotions and senses as it did when we were first experiencing it. I remember our parents pointing out beautiful things about the world by asking us to notice billowy white clouds racing across the sky or to notice the different parts that combined to make up the beauty of a dark purple bearded iris blooming against our back fence in the spring. Awareness of these sights added interest to my life but it was not until a clear, cold Christmas night when we were driving the long journey home from our grand­parents' farm that I had that first rush of combined amazement and bewilderment about our world. We had had a deep snowfall the day before but Christmas day had dawned a beautiful sunny morning. As we left our grandparents' and darkness was upon us I was incredibly, and forever more, impressed by the beauty of the countryside. The evergreen and deciduous trees had developed slivers of icicles that, along with the crusty snow on the limbs of the fir trees, were sparkling in the light of the moon. They were the most beautiful Christmas trees I had ever seen but it was the moon that created an overwhelming sense of amazement within me. Not only was it lighting our pathway home and making the world a beautiful place, but it did not fall into the set of rules the world had taught me. It was refusing to move past us like the frosted trees and snow covered farmhouses were moving past us as we travelled down the road. It stayed where I could see it out the window on my side of the car. Occasionally it would move behind the car when we went around a curve but it would always return to my window. I remember consciously deciding to break the magical silence of this journey by asking my father why the moon was following us. I am sure he was trying to explain it in such a way that I could understand, but there are just those things that cannot be reduced to a five year old's comprehension and I remember I stopped listening to him when he started discussing the distance in miles the moon is from the earth, choos­ing to go back to the silent world of this exquisite night and my private thoughts. Even though I now understand why the moon seems not to move, that night contributed to my continued understanding that it is those events in our lives that we do not make happen and that we really have no control over that instill in us a reverence and passionate regard for the wonder of all that goes beyond knowledge and into faith. And, in the meantime, I know that is the direction we are going with our toddling daughter because she hurries her short little baby legs to the door whenever she senses we are going outdoors. Emma loves being out in the world. She loves the sun, she loves the rain, she loves the 'doggies' and the 'duckies', and she loves the feel of the wind on her face. It's a beginning and I know the feeling of reverence for the wonder of her life and the wonder of the world will come to her privately and in her own good time.  

~Toni Christianson

Have a happy and safe holiday and see you next year!