It’s quiet.
There is a noticeable hush over the farmhouse.
Morning milking is still in progress.
Such a slow process.
The cows are dirty and wet from being outside.
My farmer works so hard.
This added burden- hard.
The Christmas mornings of glee and boundless energy. . . gone.
All but memories now.
Instead, there is a comfortable quiet.
Deep remembering.
Much joy.
It’s still a different kind of Christmas.
Heaven came down and touched earth.
The greatest gift ever given.
Today we rejoice in that gift.
We receive; that which we do not deserve.
Merry Christmas from the Davis Farm.