by A.J. Cuff
→ As the cold grows louder and the music turns jolly, the world fills with people with festive day folly.
But the neighbors downstairs in apartment 17 are too poor for Christmas — no presents or a tree.
My teacher Mrs. S is decorated in fabric veils — does she have nothing to celebrate but that fifth daily prayer?
What about the old man, an atheist with a burned out faith?
I wonder about Buddhists; what so they celebrate?
The beauty of Christmas fills my own home with bellows and cheers. My heart breaks for all the people with no holiday to adhere.
The red garland and jingle balls
Green bells, whistles and gongs
Who thinks about our fellow people with no holiday spirit to share?
No one at all. No one but me.
A thoughtful little child.
Filled with curiosity.