Love within and without this Holiday Season

An aged, silver haired man; the owner to a face, or rather a canvas, of ominous expression. Clinical grey eyes, cold and diffident to even the smallest of creatures, stare down as he treads through slush and ice. His coattail drifting behind him as the frigid winter gust tugs at his coat and chills his bones; his brown leather shoes with worn soles sink into the soggy frost bitten ground, occasionally slipping on invisible slabs of ice; his fingerless gloves failing to shield the frozen, pink fingers stemming from his calloused palms; his worn face, drawn, each wrinkle and line whispering the tales of his past adventures and failures. Trudging up the ashen cement walkway, he makes his way to the towering building. Countless windows peering from each floor, glowing with  fluorescent light yet shadowed and forlorn, they glare down upon him and up at him from the wet reflection beneath his feet.  Slowing his step,  his reflection meets the glass sliding doors to the establishment. Warm air blasts from the vents overhead, enveloping his body and thawing his face, as he removes his coat and gloves. Pleasantly he is greeted by two stout, motherly women adorning children's cartoon print scrubs and golden pins carved with their names. They kindly inquire of his day and how they may help him and if he himself is visiting someone. Yet, even in the midst of such a warm atmosphere the man's emotions are numb. Responding to their kind acknowledgements and concern, he then is  informed of his destination, cordially thanks the women, and ascends the stairs to the floor above where here lies an outstretched narrow hallway. Every few paces leads to a doorway opening to a different room of possibly a different size or shape, but just as solemn as the chamber behind the opposite wall.  Clutching the railing beside him he pulls his weary body up to the last step of the stairs and shuffles down the barren hall to the door decorated with a lone wreath entwined with holly. After lightly rapping his fist against the wooden door and waiting a couple moments he slowly reaches for the golden doorknob, turning it inch by inch as to not utter a sound.  Creaking slightly the door opens to a eggshell tinted room, filled with only the light of the moon and reflection of the snow. An aged woman- her faced drained of most color; ivory hair bundled messily near the nape of her neck; arms, legs, waist, all thin and lost in a sea of quilts and blankets- smiles bleakly at the man as he enters the room, staring at him longingly with tender eyes. His once feeble frame sweeps swiftly to her;  he kneels at her bedside and grasps her hand in his. As the stars from beyond the window gleam and the snow descends from the sky to form with the white blanket already covering the earth, they hold each other and watch the world outside as the man strokes the woman's hand whispering loving words of affirmation and comfort.  Falling gently asleep as she lay there; he kisses her upon the cheek and sits in the chair beside the metal spring bed. With arms folded, coat across his lap, and his wife beside him, he drifts into rest and dreams nostalgically of the Christmas when warmth consumed all sickness, when troubles were petty, and cold was only felt on the surface of the skin.  However, love finds him comfort and warmth, it is not fleeting and he doubts it not, forever it will be a furnace to every cold endeavor.

*Last Christmas, this Christmas, as well as future Christmas' there have been, are, and will be people in our midst those who are bruised by their own anguish. Down cast eyes, aching hearts, and minds overcome with shadows will haunt them as they brave the holiday season. Imperative is the obligation those of us lucky enough to be of little distress, to help the ones who are not so fortunate. Whether that applies to aiding a struggling close friend or a stranger, the rewards to lending a hand to someone are greater than any tangible gift received underneath the tree. Consider this concept throughout your holiday season and God Bless. *