There is a memory deep inside my soul of the smell of Christmas. The glitter hanging off the limbs of the tree reflecting the colored flashing lights. More than this the warmth and excitement. The hope. The joy. Something so valuable. Something worth more that anything.

Maybe it’s a sensation reserved for the very young. The feeling of being protected, warm and snuggley. Dreaming of the presents and eating the fudge. I had very low budget Christmas’s by American standards. Many times there were no presents . But even repackaging things and the smell of the pine tree was enough. Maybe it’s the love I’m missing.