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Some time past, in a different world seems like, a different reality of sure, little children's squeal of delight and happiness seeing what the tree had birthed. A house filled with love and sharing, Christmas lived, my heart was full, but all now is gone, save the memory. My thanks for opening that door, allowing what once was to be, again, what is.
Good Morning Walter,
Under a mid December sky, twenty-nine years ago, I looked through an ice cold window and found the true meaning of Christmas. Were you standing in the shadow that day? Personally, this short little piece is very comforting to read. Today, celebration is what its all about. Did you scrip this for those of us once dangling very much like an ornament, reflecting, on the process of crossing back over, into the real? At the break of this new dawn, I can only smile, to think, perhaps you did.