My Cardboard Balcony

While Singing Christmas Carols by Belinda Roddie While singing Christmas carols in the car on the way home from work, I found a shard of calm from all the cold anxiety that haunts my mind on a daily basis. From simple things like "What if my laptop gets fried and I lose all my files?" to a somewhat moderate worry about jobs, to finally the big fear of dying or losing someone to death too early. But when a song so simple comes alive like "Silent Night" or, better, "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas," I can breathe at last. The Christmas season, quite oddly within the chaos, is where I find peace.

Sneaky feet on creaky stairs. I heard them. They were small but stealthy. They made a light pitter-patter like snow dropping in perfect lumps. I smiled and set down the plate of cookies. One was half-eaten. Another I held out to the young girl who stared wide-eyed at the bottom of the stairwell. Her eyes were very blue. Like jewels. Brighter than my own beard. "Can't wait for Christmas?" I asked her with a twinkle in my eye.