Chapter Seventy Six: A Wintery Scene

Monsters are real, and ghosts are real, too.

They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.

Stephen King

Because God is never cruel, there is a reason

for all things. We must know the pain of loss;

because if we never knew it, we would have

no compassion for others, and we would

become monsters of self-regard, creatures of

unalloyed self-interest. The terrible pain of loss

teaches humility to our prideful kind, has the

power to soften uncaring hearts, to make

a better person of a good one.

Dean Koontz, The Darkest

Evening of the Year

Attn: The Reader of Your Kind

A Willow's Worth

Believe, never doubt

In the power of giving

The dreams in the world

In spite of the cold

Despite the odds

There is a world to trust

A secret being, there it was

A shelter of goodness

A pair of hearts

United in power

There is a common shelter

From which secrets are safe

The distance wanders

But not from home

Nor away from it

But in discovery

Waiting to be seen

It was Christmas after all

A true joy to behold

By the mighty goals

Of a sacred heart

There begins a magical path

That transcends all replies

A beautiful destination

A friend to everyone

A place that gains rewards

The truth sets the tone

While someone is alone

To cheer a losing soul

To begin the message of hope

Instead of the snow

There is no coldness

But the warmth of jubilation

There it was

Behold, the tree of life

This tree does not rest

Never in the face of darkness

Nor the threat of the chill

As precipitation falls

In this day of the year

The tree is finely wore

To celebrate the feast

The birth of a Savior

A heroic deed of love

The messenger sent

Was no less than the Son!

Hark the herald, 

The Angels sing!

All animals will know

Everybody beholds

But the reindeers even more

As they fly through the snowfall

They were busy to see

And deliver the goodness

Each person receives

The child is resting

The child revisits

A memory of a tree

What a truly magical memory!

But slander befalls them

In the myths, the wits and legends

They were improperly desecrated

By the rhetoric of mind so cruel

It sounded so real

So true, so glorious

Until the magic is gone

And the rise of the Occult

There was no excuse

No explanation recused

Because they are here

Ready to deceive

A willow's worth

As it shouldn't be.

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This Chapter is sponsored by Lacoste.