"I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year." —Charles Dickens
—Frank Herbert

Sometimes I imagine that the holidays come galloping over the horizon, like a band of high-spirited hooligans riding on black horses. Blink and you miss them. Shadows that pass in the night. Every year I vow to stay up late and catch them before they slip past my window—Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's. I vow to pause and savor each one, like a freshly baked cinnamon apple, delicious to the last bite. Each holiday is worthy of its own month of celebration, yet they seem to arrive in a prepackaged bundle—like computer software—and I never have time to fully appreciate each one.

I dress my dog like a jester and together we greet neighborhood children with fists filled with chocolate; my husband and I fret over which is more important—the Butterball or the football; I wonder whether I allowed enough time to mail Christmas gifts overseas; I forage through my closet for that perfect black dress only to discover that I either gave it away two years ago or it doesn't fit anymore.

And I struggle—just like you do—to make my home look perfect. I scrub the floors, wash the windows, polish the silver and complain when I notice all the broken things that need to be fixed. I hang the lights, write the cards, wrap the presents and wonder where all the money has gone. Somewhere in the midst of it all, I realize that my home—and I—will never be perfect.

I realize that there is something much more important going on, like a steady current flowing beneath my feet. I remember that it really isn't all about me. Or my home.

That's actually my favorite part of the holiday season, when I finally get my eyes off myself and my desire to make this the best year ever. I finally realize that there are countless opportunities to make a difference in someone else's life. An unexpected present here, a charitable donation there, a few moments spent helping someone else.

I guess I'm a bit thick-headed. Other people seem to learn this lesson faster than I do. People like the Booths, who founded the Salvation Army back in 1865 [see the story on page 68], or the Cook-Gileses, who host a Victorian themed dinner for charity every year.

I truly love the holidays, even though they come and go so fast. But my favorite part will always be the people. May your holiday season this year be filled with love and peace. And may all the chairs at your table be filled with your favorite people.

Blessings always,

Merrie Destefano
Editor