Last night’s party was a hit! Lots of food, lots of friends, lots of joy! Just the best way to celebrate this beautiful season! The only thing still missing is snow 😦
Our guests ended up leaving well past midnight and my family only got to bed after 1:30am! Then we were up and out of the house at 8:30am for Church. I don’t know what I’m running on right now!
Anyway, I just sat down and wrote this short piece. It’s just a little over 200 words, and I hope it will suffice. I’m going to start working on tomorrow’s now.
Through the frosted window panes, Gloria held watch over the children. She observed them as they frolicked in the freshly fallen snow with more attentiveness than their own parents. She watched as they engaged in snowball fights, as they clambered over forts, as they built snowmen.
She remembered how she had once occupied herself in the same way with her sister and brothers, remembered the delight of their play, the joy of the Christmas season.
She remembered the feeling of the cold flakes falling upon her skin and melting in the instant of that contact. She remembered the stories they would create, the world they would imagine travelling to. She remembered the comfort and warmth they would covet when they returned to their home, when their mother would serve them hot cocoa, freshly made and steaming. She remembered the burning sensation of the hot liquid upon her tongue. They had never been patient enough to wait for it to cool.
Winter had always been her favourite season. The snow, so white, so pure, had always teemed with magical power.
She still found the same, still believed the same, finding small happiness in watching the new generations amuse themselves as she once had. She felt their joy, their excitement, their youthful bliss.
Those days were long ago now, but she would never forget. She would always keep her memories and feel them come alive, awakened by the sight of romping children.
It did not matter that she was confined to her wheelchair; her vicarious life had never been stronger.
May inspiration flow like ink upon your quill,
© 2015. Faith Rivens.