| He walked slowly through the snow, his hands jammed deep into his pockets. His face was buried in the collar of his jacket. The wind was brutal, but it was nothing compared to the coldness he was feeling in his heart this time of year. He looked up as he passed some carolers singing on the street corner. He took in the bright lights and cheerful sounds of Christmas as he crossed the street. He wanted to be able to enjoy this holiday, but his heart just wouldn�t let him. He had been wandering for a couple of hours now, aimlessly meandering along. He did have a purpose in his walk today. He wanted to get them each something for Christmas. But he wasn�t sure what to buy. What do you get for the woman who is your soul mate, but whom you are unable to be with? And what do you get for your son, a child who, in all likelihood, will grow up only hearing stories about you, but never meeting you? He stopped in front of a gift shop that was gaily decorated for the holidays. Something silver twinkled in the window, caught his eye. He opened the door, relishing the feel of the warm air as he stepped inside, the bell over his head tinkling merrily. He walked towards the display in the window. There were several Christmas ornaments hanging there. They were silver, the kind that you can engrave things on. He knew that he wouldn�t get anything engraved upon them, but there was one that caught his eye. He picked it up, looked at it closer. It was a star�but not just any star, it was the star of Bethlehem. Looking at it, he was reminded of his son�their miracle. And as he held the ornament up to the light, he knew that would be what he got for his son. Not because his son would appreciate it; but because of what it would mean to her when she opened it. He wanted her to know that he was thinking of them, that he never stopped thinking of them. That�s why he sent her a postcard every chance he got. He wanted her to know that he hadn�t forgotten. That he would never forget. He returned his gaze to the display. He wanted to get one for her now, something that would convey his feelings for her. And he saw it, tucked back in the corner, almost as if it were hidden. It was a silver heart. It was small, maybe about the size of a silver dollar. It wasn�t fancy, but it was perfect. He took his two presents up to the counter, and quickly paid for them. He had to take this to the post office today, this morning, if he wanted them to arrive tomorrow. He rushed into the post office, hastily grabbing a box and some tissue to wrap his presents in. As he was addressing the box, a thought stopped him in his tracks. Should he put a note in there? He stood there, pen in hand, gazing off into space, lost in thought. There was so much he wanted to tell her, needed to tell her, but didn�t want to burden her, didn�t even know how to tell her what was in his heart. He was afraid that if he told her too much, she�d come looking for him even though she promised she wouldn�t. And he would do anything to keep his family out of harm�s way�even if it meant never seeing them again. He blinked away the tears, returning his thoughts to the present moment. He decided to write a short note, implying nothing. Yet, as well as she had always known him, he knew that she would understand what he meant. And so, with a shaky hand, he scribbled his note and quickly tucked it into the box before taking it up front to be posted. �Merry Christmas, Scully.� *The end* |
| December 23 |