I used to prepare for Christmas for weeks. I had a giant weeping cherry tree, planted it myself along with five others, in the yard of my upscale development in New Jersey. I wove lights around every single hanging branch of that tree. It took hours and hours, but it was spectacular when lit. I searched for the perfect Christmas tree in surrounding town lots, and wouldn't settle until I found one that went up to the ceiling and took up a good part of the 12x24 living room. Gifts were piled so high I had the overflow going into the dining room. My mantle was a work of art, with imported German nutcrackers, heirloom angels, tall red tapers and loads of fresh greens. My mother would ship magnolia branches up from Georgia and I would spray paint the leaves gold. Every end table would have mangers or elves on the doilies. I would drive up and down the street gazing into my living room to make sure everything was properly placed. Martha would have been proud of my Christmas living room. My life has changed radically since moving to the farm. Here it is two weeks before the big day and I have not started getting ready for Christmas. My teaching position and farm work, with holiday craft shows, takes about every bit of time and energy I have to muster. I hear about people going to malls, making this, cooking that, and wish I could do it too. Then I go out into the barn and look at my beautiful sheep and sweet goaties, and realize I have something much more unique and special. I don't have to keep up any appearances and only have to worry about keeping my animals fat, happy and safe from predators. I am in a very biblical profession. Shepherds are ever-watchful, ever vigilant, ever-protecting of their flock. It's Christmas every day on my farm. Remember it was sheep and shepherds who attended the birth of Jesus and were the first creatures He beheld.
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