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Christmas Curses

He drug the bare Christmas tree down his narrow staircase by the trunk and let it rest on the cream colored carpet he had just freshly cleaned. 

He cursed several times as he reluctantly welcomed the tree into his space. For you see, he hadn't had the true spirit of Christmas in his home for years. 

He'd become a ghost of the man he once knew, a man who once loved Christmas with his whole heart. Now a man who found the season to be filled with bittersweet holiday memories. Memories that left tiny holes in his heart, spaces where loved ones used to be, now only there as he cared to pull them out like strings of memories. 

He stood the tree up in the cramped corner beside the couch, framed by the window behind it. It was a beautiful tree, one that held hope that perhaps it would be dressed with ornaments long lost and buried, in a box somewhere yet to be found. Tucked away like his memories were.

He found the box, dusted the top off and began to dig around. And there he found simple, sweet and nostalgic ornaments. Most thoughtful and handmade, some store bought and labeled with names and with dates. Some with wicked sweet emotions attached. Each a piece of Christmas's past, each a small reminder of how much he had been loved through the years.

As he dressed the tree carefully and delicately, he began to realize that he'd built a thick, crusty and ugly little wall around his once open heart. Against all things Christmas and likewise tenderly sentimental. As he hung each bobble, trinket and charm, he felt his heart begin to warm again. For upon this simple, tall and skinny tree he found that love through the years was always there, from so many thoughtful and loving hearts.

So, as he gazed upon his beautiful Christmas tree, a few tender tears ran down his cheek. His heart cracked wide open and the spirit of the season rushed in with full force. And of course, he was happy once again, for the true spirit of Christmas was always there, right within his heart. 


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