Christmas Presents

Two very special gifts were discovered by accident.

Love can occur at the strangest moment. For Jean and me it started when we got tangled together setting up Christmas tree lights for our church holiday night. “Sorry. I think I lassoed your legs.” She’d caught several strands of blinking colorful star shaped lights around herself as well.

I caught her in an embrace as she almost tripped. “Looks good on you,” I teased, “Sort of like an adult sized Christmas tree fallen angel.”

We stood under the outside string of lights giving a magical glow holding onto each other. In that startled moment, she leaned up and kissed me, “Thank you for saving me, kind sir. Now how do we get out of this mess.”

“Make like a tree and leaf?” I said, impulsively kissing her back. I draped one fallen strand over her shoulder so we wouldn’t get snagged by it again. It became a game.

Holiday tinsel, bells, and ornaments were all within reach. We quickly adorned each other’s hair, glasses, ears, and clothes with festive abandon, laughing at each other at each inspired touch. “You look like quite the surreal Christmas present.” Jean leaned on tiptoe, pressed herself against me and whispered, “I’d love to unwrap you if we could find a more private place.”

We were the only two working that part of the church’s festive decorations, but public enough anyone could have come by to check on how we were doing. Getting rid of all our attached glitter became ways of caressing I’d never experienced before.

“Hey, you two about done?” The pastor asked, coming into view. He gawked at what we’d literally thrown at the outdoor Christmas tree. “Hmm. I like your enthusiasm, but maybe I’ll get Joseph and Mary to tidy up what you’ve begun.”

He let us off the hook, ignoring the disheveled look each of us now wore, until he paused at the church door. “Looks like you two have gotten your Christmas wish from Santa a little early. Come inside when you are done.”

The spark we felt had grown into barely controlled fire waiting to be quenched. “One more kiss and make it your best,” Jean whispered reaching for me.

Forty years later and that memory is as vivid this holiday season as when it first occurred. Jean and I do our best to revive it each and every Christmas eve.

We no longer need to adorn each other with holiday decorations. It’s easier now to unwrap the Christmas presents we’ve become to each other.

WC 418