On Twelfth Night, while the Three Kings deliver gifts to the children of Spanish-speaking world, I will summon the strength to disassemble our family’s signs of the holiday season. Weeks of love and labor transformed our messy home into a setting worthy of celebration with friends and family. By sunset on Epiphany, the baubles will return to their boxes, and we will close the cupboard doors on Christmas until next December. Monday morning we will sling backpacks over our shoulders, slip into the January cold fueled by a bit of residual fruitcake, and fantasize about February crocus to announce an early spring.
