I hope your 2024 is happy, healthy, and peaceful! 💖
12/31/2023
12/30/2023
12/29/2023
Auld Lang Syne
A short story by Mary M. Isaacs. (Editor's Note: This story is a sequel to Christ Child's Lullaby)
“All beautiful the march of days/As seasons come and go.
The hand that shaped the rose has wrought/The crystal of the snow,
Has sent the hoary frost of heav’n/The flowing waters sealed,
And laid a silent loveliness/On hill and wood and field…
………………….
Rose peered through the small window in the heavy wooden door of the old church. No taxi yet, just gently falling flakes of snow in the late afternoon light; she was glad the snow had held off until after the service was over. It would be a light snowfall, though, like the recent ones, and she could have walked to the church service; it was only a few long blocks, after all, and there was no ice. But Mrs. Evans had insisted that she take a taxi there and back, and Rose had agreed in order to give her neighbor peace of mind. Not like last year, after that memorable Advent service—and she smiled to herself as the memory flooded back. Joe had walked her home that evening, through the fallen snow. But Joe wasn’t here today to hold out his elbow for her arm to guide her steps home. She missed him, and wished he was there.
* * *
To read more, "Auld Lang Syne" is in the Hidden in Plain Sight and Holiday Stories collections.
12/27/2023
12/23/2023
12/22/2023
Too late now
I have always wanted to be somebody, but I see now I should have been more specific.
Lily Tomlin
 |
| By Fernando Botero |
12/20/2023
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12/18/2023
"Christ Child's Lullaby" by Mary M. Isaacs
Rose hurried, so she wouldn’t miss the beginning of the church service. It was already too late for her to take her place in the choir—she couldn’t have, anyway, because of the cold and laryngitis that had crept up on her the past several days. She knew it was coming and it made her heart sink. There was nothing Rose loved more than singing, and she especially looked forward to Christmas time when she could sing the beautiful music she had adored and sung since childhood. She knew she had a good voice—her friends told her that, choir directors told her that, even strangers in church said so. That didn’t matter, one way or another. She just loved to sing; she would sing even if her voice had been plain and ordinary.
She buttoned up her overcoat and put on a woolen cap, gloves, and snow boots. It was bitterly cold outside, and the forecast had called for more snow sometime before morning. Even though it was too late to protect her voice from the cold, Rose still needed to keep warm. The church was very large; good for singing but bad for warmth. As she was not going to be in the relatively sheltered group of singers standing shoulder-to-shoulder, but instead sitting in a cold wooden pew by herself, she needed the heavy outer clothing.
She remembered to turn the heat down in her small apartment. She also left a few lights on, as her parents had advised when she moved to the city. After locking the door, she hastened down the stairs and out through the glass doors of the lobby. No one was around—too cold, too late at night. Everyone was either snug at home, or already where they were going for the evening. She turned at the corner and made her way down several blocks, avoiding icy patches and leftover drifts of snow. It had been a rough week for weather, so she was careful how and where she stepped.
The bulk of the old church soon loomed on her left.
* * * * * *
(To continue reading "Christ Child's Lullaby", you can find it as part of the collection Christ Child's Lullaby, or Holiday Stories, available at Amazon in either paperback or Kindle.)
Yes, please
Somebody needs to break it to the people running the meetings 
that for introverts, ice breakers create more tension than they relieve.
12/17/2023
This
A successful marriage requires falling in love many times,
always with the same person.
Mignon McLaughlan
12/16/2023
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