Fragrant Quote for December 3rd, 2012-Fragrant Winters Fire by By Walter Prichard Eaton

phot of the sky in winter
Yet it isn't in any of these things that the deepest suggestion of Christmas lies. It is rather when I come from the woods on Christmas afternoon, across the snowy fields that are already stiffening up as the low sun sets till they creak under my snow-shoes, and draw near my own home when twilight is stealing down the eastern hills and hanging like a veil in my evergreens. Then I see, in the dark block of the house, two reddish gold squares of light, light that dances on the panes because the logs are snapping, the flames are wallowing up the chimney. I smell the smoke of them, a delicate fragrance on the cold winter air. Those golden window squares mean home, they mean not affluence, I am sure, nor yet poverty, but they are the result of wholesome struggle, which, I pray God, has harmed no other man. I should be less than human if I were not proud of them, if they did not make me warm with happiness, more tender toward the dear ones behind their shelter. But should I not be less than human, too, certainly less than Christian, if I did not confess that the true spirit of Christmas is the spirit which admits that some such a home is the right of every man who is born of woman, and which ardently desires each man to come into his birthright? I cannot see Christmas in any other way. I cannot approach my house behind its evergreens, coming out of the winter world into the fragrance of its open fires and the glow of its window squares, without a pang of passionate happiness, and in the shadow a stab of remorse. The winter world is so exquisite, so white, so purged and still and beautiful! A happy home is so wonderful a thing! And yet the Babe who was born in Bethlehem has sorrow in His eyes.