One at a time, she unwrapped treasured Christmas nick nacks, books, music boxes, and her mother’s crèche, arranging them just so around her rooms. But the last decoration she put up, the last decoration she put up every year, was the one that always went unnoticed and unappreciated.


She stood over the stove with her wooden spoon carefully stirring the contents of her pot as the flames slowly heated them to the hard ball stage. She couldn’t believe that all she really required was sugar and water, a dollop of flavored oil, and some color yet she knew she had read the recipe correctly...


The tittering of little bells Is what she longed to hear That signaled that the longed for hope Would soon be drawing near “Ting-ting” the silver bells sang A song about her beau Where her heart was safe Where her heart did glow...

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