Yes, there may be a few yards decorated with warn out freezers and old fire extinguishers, but it is also the kind of town where the mail can be delivered to your brother's house because until you moved in he was the only Rapp. And you often see the same people in the store. That's right the store, that is aptly located on Store Street, directly across from the post office, where everybody knows your name. I had to work that in, I just couldn't forgive myself for missing that opportunity.
Not to be mistaken, Mr. Rogers doesn't live here. Not only because he has passed away, but because people still ride your bumper as you slow down to turn into your driveway, sometimes people go the opposite direction of the arrows in the parking lot of the store, and when you are waiting for the Red Box people take their sweet old time not caring that you know what you want and would like to watch the movie sometime that day.
I know, we have a Red Box, and when I saw it outside the store, I had to think of the scene in Fiddler on The Roof when Motel the tailor got his new used sewing machine and people came from far and wide just to see this newfangled technology. I digress.
I fear I am not doing a good job of debunking that Skeeter thing. What I am taking the long way to Farmer Boyd's to say is that tonight as I took out the trash, I was overwhelmed by the brightness of the stars. I realized that giving up some of the conveniences of city life can give me what most have to travel an hour to see. And though as a child I could never find the dippers, I had no trouble tonight. I know I have no idea what all the constellations are and when they are out, but it doesn't matter to me. The fact that I could see so many stars was enough for me. I thought how each one was put in its place with purpose, purpose I may never know. I stood there, looking up, thinking of the wise men looking for the star of promise so long ago. I thought of how I should be looking for Jesus' second coming and praying for that day with hope and anticipation. Just then, and I kid you not, O Come, O Come Emmanuel started to play on the church bells from down the street.
It was what I like to call a movie moment. I have been looking for one this Christmas. I even went so far as to get into a slight altercation with one of my sisters because a "picture perfect" shopping trip wasn't working out. It is so funny how when I try to direct those perfect moments they fail miserably. And when I let go of those notions, God orchestrates things in such a way as to say, wait, look up, this is the moment I have for you. This is your Christmas movie scene this year. You are in the perfect part, the scene is set, and all the extras that I need are present.
That right there is my love note Christmas card from Heaven.
