My friend Stacy issued a "25 Days of Christmas" challenge.
To participate, post 25 ways you celebrate the Christmas season.
On Sunday, we worshipped by candlelight together with the children. They love the Christmas service, and for more reasons than just being allowed to hold a candle with minimal panicking by me. This year, though, Bub nearly lost his candle mid-service.
He became very interested in the melted wax and began tilting his candle to let it flow down onto the drip guard. I watched him as he tilted his candle this way, then a little further that way, and back again. He began tilting his candle more and more, not really making a scene, but then the accumulated wax began sliding off the guard and toward another woman's beautiful coat draped on the chair in front of him.
I reached over to touch his hand, hoping to silently convey the message, "You'd better cut it out, or you're going to ruin this lovely coat, after which you'll have to find some sort of child labor opportunity to pay restitution because there's no way I'm funding the negative side of your wax fascination." That's not what he understood. He thought my hand touching him meant, "Sit down," and so he did.
When I motioned for him to stand back up, he was still so engrossed in the flicker of the flame that he did not notice how near he came to setting said coat on fire. He leaned in so close while standing up that I audibly gasped. That broke his gaze, he got my message, I slid the coat down onto the woman's seat (away from all flames), and we left the church building completely intact. Whew...