Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house… So goes the beginning of one of the oldest stories about Christmas know to man. Phrases like: “the pitter patter of little feet” and the “joys of Christmas echo the air. The season of perpetual joy. The laughter of the children. For years we hear these phrases and often no one ever ask anything further about them than there.
Some have stopped and asked about those without homes, without the means to buy those things to celebrate with. WE help them and life goes on.
But stop if you would, and allow me to share with you about those few that no one even knows are out there, at least so it would seem. They find themselves sitting in a corner of a house, alone, in pain, and with a depression level so high, that if it were blood pressure, they would be dead. The ones who have no children, to see the smiles, and hear the feet. The ones who are truly alone, with love in their hearts, and no one to really share it with.
Ever wonder what it is like to not have your phone ring? On a day of joy, and no one remembers that you are alive. How is one to smile, or enjoy these days. When all you hear is the same things over, and over again. Silent Night, becomes a song of tears, of pain, instead of tears of joy, as the writer intended. Finding these folks isn’t easy. They are experts at hiding the pain that lives within. They are the life of the party, at least yours, when they are there. They always have a smile on, they listen to you when you have problems. And yet the level of their pain is off the charts.
I know they are out there, and they hide really well. For these folks Christmas and other holidays are the worst kind of torture there is. I know, for I live this pain, in every day of my being.
Can you change Christmas? or at least the pain for someone? Can you find a way to make sure you transform the torture of holidays, to the fun of holidays for someone close. Open your eyes and look, there is someone close to you, you feels this way.
MedicSmurf 