Christmas

Like the strings of a cello being played, my heart feels a tingling vibrato that makes me shiver.
And the mellow drone of the instrument is exuded- heart wrenching, teary, yet full of passion.
"I can't believe it actually happened, and I am celebrating?"
The music is only heard by my very own eardrums, while I savour the delicious roast beef, the once in a blue moon Virginia ham and drink my sparkling juice laid before me in this splendid, in what we call, "christmas" setting.

I hear the sound of Via Dolorosa, the road down Calvary, even during his birthday!
He, borned to die?
It must have been a joke.
It can't be true.
I'd declare a loud "HAHA".

But reality speaks, and tells me, how true it was.
The Christmas tree, all shiny and colourful- a mark of the tree he was nailed upon.
Embedded in all the joy we bask in, lies the very mark of nobility, of love that no one could imitate.

I shiver, because I sinned today.
Such an unworthy sinner as I, has received the greatest gift, more than what's under my Christmas tree.

"Appreciate it, Fiona!"