This season, I am joining Emily for her Christmasey tradition of Unwrapping Tuesdays at http://www.chattingatthesky.com/ * Taking – as she invites us each to do – the gift of an ordinary day and finding the miracle secret it holds. This post may not be exactly what she has in mind. But on this Tuesday, with ideas for the advent fiction story that’s been flickering and tumbling round the edges of my mind coming into focus today — through an ordinary, dark- and-drizzly December world outside my windows — it seems sort of like… my miracle gift. Pretty much a first for me. Putting my hand to trying a flight of fiction here... with prayers that God may use it to somehow lift and ribbon twirl and sing a bit of Advent HOPE round your hearth this season… I think I have an idea of where it is leading, but as I invited you in Sunday’s (Christmas at Hearth: First Candle…HOPE) — won’t you grab your cuppa and
join me in unwrapping this opening installment?
ulia McCann snugged her gray tweed jacket tighter, wrapping it round herself as if with a comforter. Brrrr.… The woolen warmth didn’t seem to reach inside, for the December wind had picked up capriciously, whipping her lightly silvering hair about her face and chilling her ears. Giving a playful shove from behind one moment, holding her back the next. Dry leaves crackled and flew from the ground like a startled flock of sparrows skittering away from her, sweeping a sudden feeling of aloneness through her. A shivering, seeping into the open crevices of her coat…brushing her spirit like a worrisome whisper.
No, she admonished herself. Don’t give into sudden moods of sadness. It was strange how sometimes… even in the midst of uplifting prayer here, walking in the neighborhood she loved… a blue thought could come whistling down the street and land like a windblown hat squarely on her head. Pushing down around her ears as if to deafen sounds of hope around her.
“Gonna have to give this up soon, Laddie,” she said aloud. More to the slate gray and frosted-cloud skies than to her companion. She could almost smell the snow coming, and that would mean changing from daily walks to finding sun few and between. The sheltie beside her glanced up, ears back, waiting.
She bent to waggle and nuzzle those ears. Laid her cold cheek against his warm fur, breathed in his clean russet, white and black coat. “Mm… You always listen, don’t you boy…It’s just hard sometimes…”
The world didn’t seem to be made for ones… She mused about that. Long ago she’d reconciled herself to life being… chiefly solitary. She’d had so many dreams…but sometimes, well you just had to let some go. See what else He had in mind.
Still… there were days and times when – well, she’d like to feel more part and parcel of someone else’s story than seemed possible. It was like living solo in a great big house, this world. Only so many rooms were shut off.
Like Mary wandering about the Secret Garden manse…
Especially this time of year. For couples with families naturally wanted to hunker down by themselves…She understood that and joined in when and where she could. She wasn’t a recluse.
Oh, she chided herself, brushing a bit of Lad’s fur from her jacket as she stood back up. It’s just the bleakness of this day getting me down somehow…
But – Julia reminded herself – this turn of cold would also mean Christmas wreaths and bright crimson bows greeting her at every door. Friendly candles flickering in windows…and being able to sit by her own window of evenings and look into the warmth of others across the way where lights twinkled from trees in the bays… like living Christmas cards…
I simply have to look for color, she thought, as Lad and she clambered up her porch steps… She was reaching into her pocket for her key when she saw it, there by her door. Dropping Lad’s leash, she stooped to get a better look, picked the object up, turning it wonderingly this way and that to the light…What was this – and where did it come from?
…to be continued… 😉
© Pam Depoyan
With this story Part One, lighting the candle of …HOPE…
Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?
Why are you crying the blues?
Fix my eyes on God—
soon I’ll be praising again.
He puts a smile on my face.
He’s my God.
~ Psalm 43:5 The Message