It was a dark and stormy Christmas Eve. A poem from Edgar Allan Poe seemed more the mood than “the night before Christmas”. The snow was blowing every which way and visibility was nil. THe wind was whistling through the screens and the snow glistened under the front porch light. I stared at the glowing fire and listened to the wood crackling. Oh, I forgot to put Santas cookies out and thought I’ll put out carrot sticks instead.

I got my Christmas tree early this year and even though I meticulously watered it, the needles were browning and shedding everywhere. It was still a beautiful tree, full with branches and full with ornaments from years ago. I added a new one every year.

I felt at peace with Christmas carols in the background. My favorites are “Oh Holy Night” and “Santa Baby”. I started thinking about how exciting Christmas morning was as a child. I barely slept usually up at 5am before my parents. The tree lights still on. All the presents Santa left. Some I wanted and some I didn’t. My red bicycle with training wheels probably stands out the most. I rode it all around the house and once the weather cleared all around the neighborhood. I was so proud.

So on this dark and stormy night a flood of memories quiets my soul.

~Anne Street