Faces of Christmas

In my spirit, and in my emotions, I am bloody and raw. I expect that because of the recent murders of 6 adults and 20 children in Connecticut the majority of our country have the same tattered feelings as do I. The images of those beautiful, innocent children that are widely posted now, and thoughts of their grieving families made my viewing of a children’s Christmas program on Sunday especially touching. Our children are so vulnerable, so precious. They are beautiful.

“Are you telling me there were real angels up in the sky?”

With a voice as clear as a mountain stream, as light as a gossamer cloud, she sang of the magnificent story of the Christ child.

“You mean they put baby Jesus in a manger instead of a crib?”

. . . and so . . . life goes on. Our children. The children of the world.

__________________

Many additional pictures of this event at my Flickr account.

Five Greats (Day 12 Summer Road Trip 2012)

Today we visited the Children’s Museum in downtown San Diego. What a glorious experience. Throughout the day I was able to capture a nice candid shot of each of the five great-grandchildren.

Sage Buxton 9 (Daughter of Chris and Christina)

Thane Buxton 8 (Son of Joel and Aisha Buxton)

Ethan Buxton 6 (I think) Son of Joel and Aisha

Drake Buxton 5 (Son of Chris and Christina)

Seth Buxton 5 (Son of Joel and Aisha Buxton)

They had a time, as did I. Among other things, they built structures, produced chalk drawings, climbed walls, blew bubbles, toured tunnels, painted a car, and a stack of tires.

This 2-year-old we met also painted. She was a riot, always wanting people to see her work. (If I were despondent, I believe I would consider going to a children’s museum–even if I didn’t have any of my own youngins’ to take. I’d sit and watch and smile, and perhaps my despondency would be lifted.)

At lunch after we left the museum, Ethan looked at his Poppy and asked, “Is it lying to tease?”

“No, not if you’re just teasing,” Poppy Steve answered. Thus began a discussion of lying with the youngsters snickering and tattling on each other. After a bit, Drake looked straight at me, very somber.

“Granny, I lie sometimes.” He stared at me, and I promise I could not help myself. I burst into laughter, looked at Steve, and he was rolling. You tell me, now.Take a look at Drake’s little face. It is just not possible that beautiful sweet boy ever lied. Grannies just know things like that.