"Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are."

Darkness had become Emma's life since the accident. The impact had left her permanently blind but the loss of her only child was the greatest burden to bear. Nothing would console her aching heart. No one could help relieve her pain. Not even James, who had sat by her bed through all the weeks of recovery, could comfort her.

A trip to the city isn’t usually stressful, except when it involves finding a place that we haven’t been before. Michael usually takes it all in stride and follows directions easily—at least until today.

Humming an old English hymn, I drove along MacDonald Street, splashing puddles onto the cracked, grassy sidewalk.

"Come and sit, Giles...you know you want to."

My wife sat beside the tall rock, overlooking the lovely mountain. The beauty before her was marred by the expression of pain so intricately painted across her face.

Something was wrong...I didn't know if I could fix it.

Andy, my husband of nine-years leaned over my shoulder to see what the problem was. "You okay?"

"No. I'm stuck." I jabbed the keyboard, nodding towards the computer monitor. "Can't get these characters to come to life!"

Sara laid the brown sweater on her bed. Her fingers lingered on the faux-fur collar and satin ribbon tie before she smoothed the velvety knit.

“…and ten again!” resounded Teyata.

She looked to the shadow, which barely passed the fern by the dead tree; it was very little time. Sniffing loudly, she ambled over the rock bed counting to ten. It was no challenge; she even got to the stage where she could blurt out the numbers in three seconds.

"Father, keep his heart clear and clean. Hold him up when he's weak. Keep his eyes and mind on you."

I really wasn't in the mood for Christmas; certainly not one like Mom had planned. I pictured myself fourteen hours away in my favorite cushy chair, a bowl of chips and a bottle of rootbeer on the table, watching football (taped from Christmas Eve). Ah that vision wooed my heart like a siren--a fine celebration of Christ's birth, tinsel resting on the television. Please don't misunderstand; I love my family. But I rather enjoyed the previous year, my first Christmas on my own, spent quietly in my apartment without obligatory conversation about rather mundane topics.

The clock on the mantle chimed twice.

Trish stood, sauntered to the window and peered out. Using a cuff of her sleeve, she wiped a small misted area of glass to see the dimly lit street beyond her rose garden.

“Where is she, Lord? Andrea is never this late.”

"Lookout, Jamie!"

"Oops." Jamie grabbed the vase before it toppled to the floor.

"How many times do I have to ask you not to run in the house?"

Jamie looked down at his bare feet. "Sorry, Mum."

Day 54- Brad collected different flowers on his journeys through the rain forests in the valleys. He either trekked through the natural beaten paths or climbed the trees to acquire what he felt he needed. By means of trial and error he discovered which plants would either poison or nourish him. Teyata had taught him principles which he rigidly adopted; anything with a milky sap was toxic, but with anything else, he was told to take just a nibble. A minute amount of any plant, even if poisonous, would not be enough to kill. If it tasted pleasant with no ill effects such as nausea or abdominal burning, then he would eat the plant in larger amounts.

Day 40-Brad leapt slamming his knees into his shoulders under Teyata’s watchful eye.

“...sixty eight, sixty nine, seventy; now work on your stomach,” she barked from her vigil on the apex of the bridge arch.

"Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are."

Darkness had become Emma's life since the accident. The impact had left her permanently blind but the loss of her only child was the greatest burden to bear. Nothing would console her aching heart. No one could help relieve her pain. Not even James, who had sat by her bed through all the weeks of recovery, could comfort her.