Seasons and Holidays Past items (poems and prose)
are in this journal.
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It was a freezing cold day in early December. All of the usual decorations had swiftly been set out and hung on the walls. Even unusual decorations like a gingerbread house. There were velvet elves with carrot-felt noses and red plaid suits on, setting around, Santas, an Angel--even tall Father Christmas done in ceramics. The parlor room was filled with the joy of Christmas already. The silver tree boughs bent down toward the floor were almost touching the red velveteen glittering tree skirt. Under the tree gifts appeared as if it were magic with kindness for the small special family of two. That last evening Rosanna and her daughter Marta had placed the fragile, colorful ornaments on the Christmas tree limbs and strung the lights to carry on a traditional, unique celebration. “This will be a joyous holiday!", Rosanna explained to Marta. “Can you see my snowman from the window, Mommy?” Marta asked her mother. The neighbor had helped her build one. “Yes.”, she answered, “It’s exquisite, honey.” Then Marta was lost in a fog, dreaming of when Santa Claus would arrive so she could put out milk and cookies for him. Marta must be a snow child, Rosanna thought, Because she can catch the snowflakes like moonbeams. At a winter interlude, in a storm, A Snow Woman Witch waving her magical wand had appeared in order to grant a wish. “I make people happy.”, she told Rosanna, “My name is Gwenna and I am an old friend of your late husband.” Gwenna had stars in her eyes. “He came to me in a deep blizzard and asked that I contact you and tell you that he is fine. He wants to join you in the afterlife and loves you forever. He is busy keeping make-believe on the side of children like Marta. Then Gwenna was gone. The visit was over. Rosanna thought of how the witch had answered her wish. She so longed to be with her husand and she had always wondered where he went after he died. She pictured the holiday feast that she and Marta would be having with close relatives near the end of the month. She was thankful for family. Still, the face of her husband watching work in the kitchen had always haunted her. She would smile as if hearing his voice, sometimes. Marta came into the parlor room where Rosanna was cleaning up. She went over to her and asked her, “Would you like some chocolate kisses, Mummy?” Rosanna gave her daughter a hug and said, “These kisses are really good. But give me a real one. That would be even better.” “I love you , Mummy.” “I love you too, darling. And so did Daddy. He did not die. He just passed on into a better world, honey.", Rosanna told Marta as she hugged her with all her might, kissing her brow carefully. |