Twelve Days of Christmas — Day 11

When Tuesday dawned — and Austyn Grace rises before the sun — the thermometer stood at seven degrees. Brrrr!

Emerging from our bedroom, I walked to the living room and reached for the switch to turn on the gas fireplace, snuggled under the covers with AG, and  giggled about how many times we’d get into the hot tub that day!

Using her long underwear as pj’s, she happily helped Grandpa make French toast for breakfast. Because of the cabin’s warmth, she had no real idea about the temperatures outside. This Georgia girl thinks all shoes come as some variety of Cinderella slipper for dress up, sparkly shoes worn without socks, or flip flops.

But later in the day, she really wanted to walk to the mailbox with Grandpa, a hefty .4 of a mile each way. We had to talk to her about the concert of layering!

She must have felt like the abominable snowman by the time we thought she had enough clothes on! But with a happy smile, she assured me “Grandpa and I will be just fine. see ya later.”


The toboggan came in handy as Grandpa pulled and AG rode up the driveway. The shadows fell across the driveway, hinting that although it was not yet 4 pm, the darkness would descend early.

I watched from the kitchen door, thinking of Robert Frost’s poem,  “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.”

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;                                   
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

I looked up at the Christmas wreath hanging on the shed , again drawn back to the Christmas season and the reason for Christ’s coming . Almost automatically, I found myself praying that the “miles to go before [she] sleeps” would be miles she walks with the Savior by her side.


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