I watch them duck under the barbed wire fence and shudder. Not from fear. But from excitement. Please let this be my year to shine.
“Here I am,” I call out into the wind ripe with the scent of wet snow. “Pick me! Pick me!”
She stops. Turns. His gaze follows her. I dare not breathe.
Ah, how I’ve dreamed of those two little words!
With love and laughter they adorn me with garments of tinsel and glass.
Gold ornaments here. Silver icicles there. Bright lights everywhere.
“Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree of all the tress most lovely”
I stand at the window and beam my pride into the night so dark and crystal clear.