It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas

It was Christmas again, after twelve years.

They'd spent the last twelve years trying to rebuild what has been lost, destroyed when their homes were invaded.

Almost everyone lost someone dear. Almost everyone took those twelve years to heal what they could, and bury those they could not.

Those twelve years had been devastation. No one could celebrate, no one could muster up enough happiness and cheer to celebrate.

Who can, when you know you're the only one left in this world?

But hope came, in the form of a girl and her friends, who'd lived the last twelve years as they had, alone, desperate, depressed.

And in this last few months, they've rebuild the lost confidence, the lost houses, the loss of whatever warms the heart.

Now, as the red and green lights shone again after twelve long years, they know, finally, that it's time to let go.

He stared at the lights in the distance. "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas," he said quietly.

She smiled and wraped her arms around his. "Yes. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."