TheBanyanTree: Silver Bells

[NancyIee at aol.com]

I am glad your cold doesn't go on and one for weeks.  It sounds a  doozy.
 
Here, I go through the motions of Christmas, the wreath, the tree, the  
manger scene, writing out the cards, but without snow, it isn't the same.   I grew 
up with mountains of snow for Christmas, school holiday spent shoveling  the 
driveway and sidewalk, and we lived on a corner, so it meant shoveling both  
directions. I can remember my feet so cold my entire body ached during the  
warmup when I would at last go inside. I can remember my nose freezing  shut, my 
breath frosting my ski mask with ice. I can remember chipping icy poop  out of 
the horse stalls, and getting something cold and sharp in my eye. I can  
remember the cozyness of a cave hollowed out of a snowdrift, my brother and I  
huddled inside.
 
Here, I water the scrawny palm tree, plug in my Christmas lights strung  
along the hedge, and pretend it's Christmas.



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