Many this Christmas will not celebrate as they roam the streets with no place to call their own and no families to celebrate with.

Image via Wikipedia
*
The lights of the Christmas tree gleam brightly
Through the frost covered window of the warmly lit room.
Sounds of laughter penetrate the dark and chilly night
As children dance happily, watching presents being wrapped
And placed before a a beautifully decorated tree.
A nearby table bears the tempting results of an afternoon’s bake.
Mince pies, biscuits and a large fruit cake,
Fill the air with such enticing aromas.
The joy and excitement of the coming festivities so apparent.

Image via Wikipedia
A man stands in the street staring longingly at the sight within.
Remembering Christmases, happy, but long gone.
His thin, ragged coat does little to alleviate the penetrating cold
As he moves on dejectedly,
Looking for a sheltered doorway to lay his weary head.
As he sits huddled up against the icy wind
His empty stomach rumbles with no hope of warm food tonight,
And placing his head on his knees he tries to sleep,
Dreaming of a room that he can call his own
And some of the dignity he has lost.
*
A light tap on his shoulder drags him from his slumber.
Looking up he sees the eyes of a child gazing at him.
A tiny hand reaches out to take his.
Stumbling to his feet he follows the child back to the window,
Where the room, now quiet, is dimly lit by the flickering embers of a dying fire.
She leads him through the door into the welcoming warmth.
Handing him a bowl of steaming soup he drinks hungrily,
Then lies on the sofa and closes his eyes, feeling at peace for a moment.
How little it takes for us to help one person in so much need
And make him feel life is worth living once again.
*
Christine Ramsay 17.12.11
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!