The lists get longer.

I hope at the end of this day I feel that I want to dance home full of the joys of the day. I have a day of meetings to attend, one all afternoon and one that will take up most of my evening so a later bedtime and hopefully both meetings have gone well and I come home full of good thoughts and enjoy my rest.

All going well tomorrow I am going to take the bus to Edinburgh and have a walk along the banks of the river Leith and visit the Christmas market and see the Rembrandt exhibition at the Art Gallery, the cares of the week behind me. 

When I write this down I already feel selfish that I am filling my day with all the things I would like to do and want to do. I could add others but I am sure time and energy will say that is enough. 

I have a friend who at this time of year lets his beard, which he has all year, grow much longer and he plays the part of Santa Clause in one of the local shopping centres and at many parties. He tells me that what surprises him is when he askes children what they would like for Christmas the lists each year get longer and longer. Surprisingly, most of those lists will be fulfilled and many parents will spend the rest of the year paying off the debt. I suspect many of them will not feel at all like the Christmas Doll in my painting.

I am sure I have told the tale written by Leo Tolstoy before but it is one worthy of further thought at this time of year.

He told the tale of a successful peasant farmer who was never satisfied with his lot. He wanted more of everything. 

One day he received a novel offer. For 1000 rubles, he could buy all the land he could walk around in a day. The only catch in the deal was that he had to be back at his starting point by sundown. 

Early the next morning he started out walking at a fast pace. By midday, he was very tired, but he kept going, covering more and more ground. Well into the afternoon he realized that his greed had taken him far from the starting point. 

He quickened his pace and as the sun began to sink low in the sky, he began to run, knowing that if he did not make it back by sundown the opportunity to become an even bigger landholder would be lost. 

As the sun began to sink below the horizon he came within sight of the finish line. Gasping for breath, his heart pounding, he called upon every bit of strength left in his body and staggered across the line just before the sun disappeared. 

He did not have time to pay the meagre fee and enjoy the success he collapsed, blood streaming from his mouth. Within a few minutes, he was dead. 

His workers dug a grave on the very spot he had died.  

It measured not much over six feet long and three feet wide.  They might have considered carving on his gravestone the question, "How much land does a person need?" Six foot by three!

How long does a Christmas list need to be to make a great Christmas?  Not very long.

Have a great day.