Christmas:
A magical time for many people.
But for so many others.
It’s not about the ho ho ho and good cheer.
—
The holidays bring to mind the good times and memories, from years past.
But often, these are tinged by the sadness of loss and longing.
To relive the days of laughter and fun.
With family and friends close by.
Basking in the warmth that can only come from within.
—
It’s about the homeless and hungry.
The neighbour, struggling with their first year of being alone without a beloved spouse.
The disabled, in all the forms that constant burden can take.
Someone spending their holidays in bedside prayer.
Those who have lost hope, for whatever reason.
—
The unseen scars, not apparent at first glance.
Bottled up frustrations, fears and disappointments.
The wasted years, the regrets and wrong turns.
The things that won’t be changed, now.
—
The eyes speak volumes.
They can often tell us so much more than a smile on someone’s face.
Not a smile from the heart.
But there because it’s required and expected.
—
To “suck it up”.
To be strong.
To just, carry on.
But the pain is no less real.
—
So much need.
—
Give a hug, say a kind word, smile at a stranger.
Find a way to really help, this year.
To make a miracle happen.
For someone who needs one.
And who may have given up, on believing.
—
It might be small.
It might not be recognized or tallied, by some organization’s:
stats, quotas or newspaper photos.
But it will be tallied, all the same.
***
My Poetic Path 