Christmas morning was delightful this year as Eliot is becoming more involved in the festivities. We didn't have a chance to get up a tree this year but he and I have been singing carols out of a little book that he loves and rearranging the Nativity to the tune of Away in a Manger. He enjoyed handing gifts to others as much as he enjoyed opening his own and was happy to assist Peter. He helped bake cookies and assemble a plate for Santa, which of course involved a lot of sampling (no second best for Santa).
Peter breezed through his first Christmas with as much grace and charm as can be expected of someone who's cutting teeth. He liked the puzzle he received, and the books, but thought that the wrapping paper was especially delicious.
A couple of weeks ago someone asked me if I was upset to have to celebrate Christmas in summer-time. It made me a little sad to think of what this indicated about encounters this person has probably had with others from my homeland, but that's for another blog post. I told her (partly because I've also had to deal with people griping about a home that I love, but mostly because it's the truth) that Christmas is still Christmas, no matter the season, and that we are delighted to be in this beautiful city and celebrate the birth of the Savior with new friends. We miss family and friends back in North America and are thankful for the technologies that help us to feel close to them. But Christmas is still Christmas, with or without the snow, and always will be.