It appeared to be a Christmas much like most others. Filled with festive decorations of sparkling colors and children’s eyes twinkling with anticipation. Despite it’s familiarity and tradition, however, it remained forever changed.
For unlike the pure joy of my youth, it was now tempered with the poignancy of bittersweet memories. Of lost loves and faded memories, of missed opportunities and regretted words.
Each year it became a catharsis of sorts, an intense array of emotions forged in memories and strewn upon the landscape. Like a wild snowstorm keeping me a safe, but isolated prisoner inside my home.
While the wind blew with such force outside my window, that to venture outside would be unwise. My raw skin would be thrashed by the usual gentle snowflakes which had now been hurled with such intensity by the howling wind, that they were now transformed into pellets. Stinging me with the brutal realityof how quickly, and relentlessly, things could change.
I found comfort from the storm in my familiar surroundings. The cup of tea I held to my lips gently caressed my face with it’s steam and my hands were comforted by the warmth of the ceramic mug as I held it close.
I was okay here, I thought. I could ride out the storm in safety and wait for a respite. By then, I would be ready to travel. Having composed myself, I would surely find the strength to forge a new path in the deep mounds of snow.
My thoughts held me captive as they traveled through time. Often moving at such a speed they seemed to match the intensity of the storm raging outside my window. I raced through memories of long ago, and of recent past. Of roads well traveled and those barely trod. I felt almost an observer, a voyeur and a guest. Never feeling a part of, and yet feeling all too much an impact from.
I took one last glimpse out the window, where the swirl of white created an almost luminescent haze. The glow of Christmas lights was amplified, and softened by, the sea of snow which created an array of almost ethereal dimension. I drifted deeper into the veil between reality and fantasy.
Releasing my mind from it’s guard of realism, I allowed it to travel, to imagine, to relive and to remember. I created my own safe dimension and reveled in it’s refuge.
I was awakened by a touch, that although not physical, was very much real. It was soft, yet sturdy. A gentle, guiding force that brought me once again to the window. Now fogged, I used my hand to wipe away a pane and allow a clear view to the outside world. The world that beckoned me, sometimes enveloped me, often intrigued me, and occasionally enshrouded me.
My warm breath threatened to cloud the window almost as soon as it was clean. I held still in wonder as I looked out into the night and strained to see what I knew must be out there. I glanced once more upon the landscape, now covered with mounds of freshly fallen snow. It was then that I saw it.
Like a magical snow that falls on Christmas Eve, an Angel descended and illuminated the ground below. The snow that had savagely beaten it’s way to the ground only a short time before, now lay softly on the landscape.
Sparkling with each ray of light which fell upon it, and creating a pristine blanket of white. The same snow which had been both weapon and harsh, was now soft and welcoming.
The Angel raised his hand toward me, and without moving, I was suddenly enveloped by his light. The warmth touched my soul and radiated from within me. The storm that had raged not only outside my window, but within my own heart, was finally calm.
I was filled with the clarity that this had not been an endurance, but a journey. I was not a captive, I was an integral part. And it was not a trial, but a gift.
This Christmas was like no others. It shone like none before it, and none to follow. It was of it’s own unique moment in time. Together they created a beautiful blanket of white, but individually they sparkled and held a beauty all their own.
And although some fell softly to the ground, while others raced through the air, they were all magical and true to their own merit. A part of a whole, a moment in time, a memory to behold....
