Little man stormed through the doorway bursting with excitement “mom can we do an Easter egg hunt?” An Easter egg hunt in November? As the earth is saying it’s glorious farewell with colors ablaze? When all I have on the brain is Christmas coming and gifts and Thanksgiving? I breathe deep. I knew this would come as I tried my best to hide the bag of eggs from little eyes as it was nestled between the wooden advent wreath. It had been a full two seasons since this box had been opened. Flowers had burst from their dark cocoons, leaves unfurled their shapes, a sign had gone in the yard, boxes packed, goodbyes said and here I stand a weak and frazzled woman in a new home grasping to reclaim the mystery of the upcoming season. Somehow the treasure’s always found. Unpacking Mary about to take the long and tedious journey to Bethlehem, I lay out the wreath on our buffet in hopes that perhaps this would be a way to remind us of what’s to come as we offer thanks over turkey and cranberries. Thanksgiving: a way to usher in advent readying our hearts to receive the best gift God’s only son. He’s saying it louder now “Can we, Can we?” Shrugging off thoughts of what will neighbors think, they barely know us, I sigh perhaps a little too loud and offer a feeble “Yes. Yes you may have an Easter egg hunt when your sisters return.” Joyful bursts of excitement usher out of my half pint boy. And here it is that it dawns on me. Christmas is only worth celebrating because Easter comes! His purpose did not end at the cradle but instead paved the way to the cross. Without Easter, there is no joy, no hope, no Emanuel God with us. It becomes another ordinary story of a girl giving birth to a child. The mystery is found in the fullness of the story. God becoming man, dwelling among us, experiencing our pain, our suffering, bearing it all to the cross then gloriously rising conquering death for us! The beginning of the story begs the ending. I clasp Mary in my hands, the beauty of the season just beginning.