It’s a jolly, holly time.

With Christmas around the corner.

 

I’ll make this short but to the point.

I. Love. Christmas.

I really really REALLY do.

Especially growing up in Asia, my idea of Christmas was snow (but, of course), fireplace with flames a-crackling, being bundled up in scarves and beanies (with pom poms, no less), hot cocoa and eggnog, sleighs, reindeer, and jolly ole Saint Nick.  The reality was a smidge different.  No snow.  No logs burning or thick Winter clothing, and most definitely no posse of Santa’s helpers.  Still, the absence of those things did nothing to detract from Christmas being one of the most beautiful recollections of my childhood.  We didn’t have much, that’s for sure, but my parents worked so hard to give us incredible memories, and that’s what has stayed in me throughout all these years.

That Christmas is truly so much more than presents.

Or lush landscapes of picture perfect snow.

Whilst my heart may go pitter patter pitter patter whenever I hear the sound of bells jingling (is that you, Santa?).  Or skip a few beats should unwrapping a box reveal something along the lines of, oh I don’t know, a new messenger bag from perhaps (cough) Prada.  And yes, I’ll readily admit, I wouldn’t turn down a massage.  Or three.

None of these things create memories.

Or truly defines what I seek during Christmas time.

And all year long.

You probably crave the same thing.

A treasure that can neither be measured nor held.  Something far more precious than silver, far more splendid than gold.

Have you guessed it yet?

Hope.

The most prized treasure of all.

The greatest of all gifts.

Hope for many things.

For courage to look fear in the eye, and live the fullest life I possibly can.  For only the bestest, most wonderful of supernova adventures to head Eve’s way.  For joy and positivity to surround the people I love, enveloping them in the tightest and warmest of hugs.  For patience and empathy to continue thriving in those beautiful souls I call friends, especially when dealing with me (we know how difficult I can be).  Okay, so that last one is a hope for everyone who knows me, and has to cross paths with me in one way or another.

Hope is the thread which binds all of us together.

Keeps us sane.  Fills our hearts with the desire to keep going.  Calms the mind when it wants to throw in the towel and allow the darkness to take over.  Folly or fact, it springs eternal.  And it is the very greatest of the gifts we’ll ever be blessed to receive.  And give.

For today’s post, I am so thankful that I never gave up hope on being happy.  On being loved.  It has allowed me to feel so free and liberated in loving back.  Be it the unconditional, implicit love I have for my (miracle) child, Eve (she is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, conceived against all odds, and I love her with every fibre of my being).  Or the man who has brought copious amounts of joy and laughter and happiness into my life in such a short amount of time, Michael (who continues to show me with every passing day that age isn’t a barrier for anything, not just style).  Or the friends who light up my screen (it’s the digital age, after all), embracing me with their warmth and authenticity (I’m talking about Jodie and Rob, and Shelbee, and Catherine, and all my Fab 40 ladies), making me feel that I am never ever alone.

On that note, could it be any more appropriate that we (Eve, Michael, Jodie and I) are doing a Santa-inspired outfit collaboration today?  I can’t imagine being in better company for this theme, for this time of the year.  Please have a look.

Eve 

Look at mah boo go.  Strutting her elf stuff.

Michael

He makes Santa look dope.

Jodie

Love the plethora of print and texure in this outfit.

Nancy

Sooooo cute.

Charlotte

That’s Queen Santarina to you.

And there’s me.  And us.

Fancy Santa.  And Santa’s elves.

How would you do red, white and black?

 

Love, Sheela

I link up here.