The Christmas House
It was early. Quite early. Quiet and still. Night was still wearing her mantle of darkness and shrouded the streets with mysterious obscurity. Lanterns towered along the pavements on a timeless quest to dispel the black magic around and light the way for the few who ventured to set foot outside at this unearthly hour. Freezing cold had set in but half an hour before, and now hustled about embracing each house and bench in his icy arms, giving each tree and fence pole a kiss of numbing chill. It was the charcoal skies that showed benevolence to the small town and lavished the world with cotton-soft snow. It gradually blanketed the huddled houses, carpeted the stone streets and enveloped the brave lanterns. Snowflakes paraded exquisite patterns. The cold edgy ice hanging off the roof eaves now resembled crystal chandeliers. It wasn’t long before the town could snuggle safe in its new seasonal attire.
Down an alley, he strolled alone. One tiny step at a time, exploring the glistening dust which the lantern above made ever so enchanting. He was cold but there was the warmest of fires burning in his heart. It yearned to see more, to experience this newly found splendor. He had never seen it, but he recognized it. Just the other day he had overheard a group of small children, clamoring about how close Christmas was and how soon the world would be all better and incomparably beautiful. And it was such, indeed. Never had his alley looked quite as festive - with fluffy garlands trimming the windows of familiar taverns and shops, and white glitter that added sparkle to every stone and beam.
His steps left a trail of lonely prints in the snow, but he felt truly happy. The challenge ahead was taking him to a brand new part of town. Upon turning a corner, he blinked incredulously beholding a window display but a few yards from his inquisitive little nose. There was a tall evergreen sprucing up its fir with dazzling baubles and ornate ornaments twinkling under the mellow light of slender candles interspersed amid the conifer branches. Perched on the tree top was a luminous figure of an angel smiling at the world below. That smile pulled a string at the little creature’s heart. All he could think about was how much he wanted to fit into this Christmas picture. He didn’t wish it all to be his, he merely craved to partake in it somehow, anyhow. Presently, his gaze was lured to the bottom of the fir tree where lay neatly nestled, a gingerbread house. Its roof was iced with sugar frosting; succulent cherries and peppermint creams added the finishing touches. Giant candy canes strengthened the corners of the house, covered in snow white meringues and marshmallows. Multicolored nonpareils had been transformed into a merry cobblestone path leading to the front door. Jellybeans and gumdrops embellished the house and turned it into a delectable dainty, much different from the food he was accustomed to, yet undeniably irresistible. Across the house there stood a small fireplace with a single candle burning at its hearth. Its warmth, however, was tangible. Branches of holly adorned the mantelpiece where miniature socks with delicate embroidery hang in all readiness. What that shop sold was not clear, but what it gave the world was unmistakable – a Christmas spirit - one of joy, peace and comfort. And those were all the gifts his little heart longed for.
Reluctantly, mostly on account of the frosty ground beneath, he turned away from the window display that had mesmerized him for such a long while that he was now shivering with cold. But his heart urged him to pursue, to follow the Christmas spirit, to see an angel smile off another tree. Having walked for a good few hours, he finally saw a faint light streaming from a door left slightly open. Without giving it much thought, he sneaked in. What he saw had in no way been touched by any Christmas spirit. The light was coming from lingering embers in a squalid fireplace. It had no stockings or holly, just a brass kettle which was barely steaming. There was no tree, either. The only decorations in the room were the intricate cobwebs in the corner and a few soot spots above the fireplace. Most of the furniture was covered in rough fabric, patched up one too many times. The only thing he could smell was the tea in the kettle brewing slowly, and all he was able to hear was a hoarse cough coming from the adjoining room. He resigned to stay there as it was, if only by a little, warmer than the outside kingdom of snow.
All of a sudden, his body was overtaken by the warmest surge of feeling his tiny heart could bear. A small boy had taken the stray kitten in his arms and was now cuddling it as close to his heart as he could. He had only made two wishes that Christmas - that his mom would get better, and that Santa would bring him a true friend. The little kitten started purring. He had found the Christmas presents he hoped for - there was infinite joy in the little boy’s eyes; there was peace all around him, the kettle was now singing a most melodious song, and the cobwebs were the best sparkling garlands one could wish for, the fireplace had become a haven of safety; the rough fabric was now the warmest quilt imaginable, and the Christmas spirit - it was not something to be found, it was something you nurture in your heart and carry with you to gift to those you meet. It was something that was now transforming the place into a home. His Christmas home.
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