This December has been uncommonly lackluster, except for the Clinton show and who follows that?

Isabel kept saying, "It doesn't seem like Christmas." I wonder why? Cissy called in from California; she was obviously missing her two sisters, Dolores and Monica. This is the first time in many years that she is away from them at this time of the year. So what was Cissy doing? Introducing our luminarias to Northern California as she had done to the folks in Montgomery County in Maryland for the last ten years or so. In Maryland Cissy's former neighbors now put out luminarias on their own. Wonder how the west coast people will take to them.
(Put a luminaria scene here)

Luminarias are something special. To us from northern New Mexico they are and will always be luminarias, regardless of what the Rufolfo Anayas of the literary world say. When it comes to being different in America there is no place like New Mexico. The classic simplicity of the self-styled Land of Enchantment, as I related in the chapter titled Los Rincones, continues to beckon. But at Christmas time more so. John are you ready to move?

Long ago I ceased being surprised at natives and visitors alike falling silent at the sight of luminarias glowing in the dark. They are as much a part of the region as the piñon and cedar trees, the clear skies and snow capped mountains of the north or the tawny desert and the yucca plants of the south. In either case they are a reflection of humankind's need for spirituality. In New Mexico burgs of old, such as Madrid or Cobre, built far from the old Spanish agricultural settlements to serve the extractive industries such as coal and copper mining, the stillness is awe-inspiring. I still remember my childhood Christmas trips to see the displays at Madrid all the way from Peñasco. The cold desert covered with rain or snow, permeates the clean smell of the creosote of piñon and creates its own time and place; in my mind it brings back the Christmas scenes at Madrid. Luminarias make their appearance everywhere this time of the year. Whether made of the traditional candles in brown paper bags half-filled with sand, or the store-bought variety that are plugged-in, they are more evocative of prayer than festivity.

In dignified silence, they call attention to natural wonders such as the sky and the stars, to which the luminarias serve as terrestrial counterpoint.

Two decades short of two centuries since the region's independence from Spain, New Mexico reinforces the point that the sameness of holiday celebrations do not detract from their differences. Above all, New Mexico retains the feel of what used to be known as the "rim of Christendom," a reference to its history as an outpost of the Spanish Empire and Roman Catholic proselytization, followed by its role as an outpost of AngloAmerican civilization.

It is a place where the accumulated weight of past traditions give spiritual comfort before an uncertain world. At Christmas and New Year's, it (the tradition) is permeating to all parts of North America. One of the perquisites of the mushrooming Hispanic influence as we become the largest minority in the nation? My daughters are doing their part in spreading the tradition even as they lose their hispanic names. Keep it up Cissy. You are doing great!

So it wasn't feeling like Christmas, but then the Dodie and John called and cheered us up; then the Monroney and Doug called and confirmed it. Now it does feel like Christmas. But where is the snow? It is Christmas, it is Christmas, the reason I can tell is because of all the goodies I have been eating, some of them being brought to us by the neighborhood children. We think the neighbors have embarked on a project "to be kind to the old folks at the corner house on Winnetka and Cedarbrook Ave."

U. S. Hill - Between Taos and Peñasco

Isabel keeps saying, "I am glad I was born in New Mexico." And Monica, on her return from a business trip to Ethiopia put it more succinctly, "I am sure glad I was brought up in New Mexico, even though I was born elsewhere."

I made a deal with Isabel. In 1999 we will have the whole gang here for Christmas; we are starting to buy the electric luminarias right now, then next year we will go to Bethlehem for Christmas. I wonder if we will feel more Christmaslike there? I don't think so. I think 1999 will be the Christmas to beat all Christmases.

After the 1999 Christmas I will write something about the perfect Christmas and the perfect family, ours, of course. Something like the Anatomy of a perfect Christmas.

Love you guys. Remember, you promised to come here, to Albuquerque, in 1999 for Christmas.