November 2018 will forever be the month I lived towards.
Over our crafting we talked about life, holiday plans, beloved family and friends, desires and struggles. Our words and laughter drifted out and fell upon our working hands like the drizzling rain outside the tent. And when we would go home to hang the wreath, all the love and fun would be there, hanging up with against the fragrant branches and decorative bows.
I sat in admiration at the trifecta of coordinating wrapping paper I had selected, the bounce of the light off the shiny bows, the way the boxes nestle into each other. It had the same appearance from years past, in fact, it looked like a pretty abundant Christmas.