Published by: Rhina Ruth Galano
Date published: December 26, 2022
Time published: 11:24 AM
Theme: The mystery of Christmas for each person
Synopsis: As the Christmas lights glimmered along the snow-covered path, love and reminiscing conquered every person. December was their most awaited month where they looked back and saw every Christmas they had spent, along with the event that changed the way their lives swirled.
“Forlorn Nights By Winter” by Rafael Andrei A. Gurrobat
Suddenly, the white footsteps appear. . . Where were we now? A tiny star, slowly falling. . .wait, was it a star? That glossy and icy twinkle of shaved ice began to trickle down to the ground. The bell sounds fed into my ears, like a lingering whisper, waking me up.
Dreaming that I'd been waiting for a long time, like today; I dreamt of a day like a gift. Finally waking up in December, it was over now. It was now the time for exchanging presents! Celebrating this holiday with our loved ones—family to family. Oh, it sounded lovely!
When I went outdoors, I noticed a snowdrift on the concrete grounds. I must have imagined myself lying on those fluffy like-clouds of snow and making snow angels, but it could wait; it was too chilly.
Surprisingly, they managed to go out despite the cold. The town appeared to be busier and more developed as time passed. Wearing handcrafted knitted scarves with two-toned colors. Others were observed tying their hands with their lovers and wearing matching gloves or jackets. Love erupted in the air.
Was that a Christmas tree I was seeing? Residents of the community were observed garnishing the public Christmas tree with a string of garlands of various colors. The town residents were also seen dangling Christmas balls on the tree. It was remarkable to admire.
Walking along the tough concrete, I raised to see mine, only to see my knitted scarf. It was the one my friend gave me during the holidays. It seemed aged, but it felt recent. It felt cozy, bringing me heat as I trail the sidewalk.
Not long enough, I made my way inside a café, sort of pondering if I should go outside once more and explore, regardless, it was too cold for me to explore. The breeze was felt to be more frigid than ever, was it ever this cold? It gave me a sore thumb.
After ordering, I sat down beside the large window of the café, it gave me a sight to admire. A livable warmth wrapped me in a cozy sensation, as I felt the café's warmth enveloping me. Chances, I may never have felt this cozy starting from the point I went out, nonetheless, it was inevitable.
Taking a sip of my afternoon coffee, a vast nippy breeze suddenly hit my face, and the faint smell of winter wavered in my nostrils as its particles shifted along my complexion. A bell was heard, in the match, as the door was opened. A man entered the space, wiping his shoulders to remove the snow that had piled up. He was tall, with muscular shoulders, and tanned skin giving him a spring radiance. He was ideal.
“One hot cocoa, please. Make it to go,” the man ordered, handing a bundle of cash.
Oblivious, I forced myself to look away when I noticed his eyes darting around the café. It made me wonder if he had spotted me staring at him for quite some time. Perhaps not. . . he was already too preoccupied.
His impression reminded me of someone I knew. Maybe because I imagined him as someone I did know. I felt familiar with his face as if it were a porcelain collection of mine. Is he someone I'd met before? He felt at home somewhere. . .
After picking up his order, the man unexpectedly turned his back on me and faced me, leaving me speechless. It was him. . . he returned. Why? I mean. . . what was his motivation for returning?
Being in a daze, I only awoke when I felt the cold brush of wind hit my face, a sign that the door opened. I licked my lower lip, looking over the white world while trying to locate him. There! I saw him holding a box that possibly contained a dozen Christmas ornaments.
Likewise, my body left numb, yet I felt troubled. I saw him again. . .those recollections abruptly drowned my brain. Him filming me in winter. . . I felt cold, yet his warm comfort brought me into summer. Those cheeky smiles he always brought when he was with me. . .rather to be blue, I felt bright.
Those memories were already frozen in time, but they still brought me warmth.
I left the café with a heavy heart and a mind that was wandering in places. I entered my house after a mile of walking of who knows—still bothered and missed. Why would he avoid me? I was hurt.
A sigh was left out, letting my body fall onto the cold bed that was frozen by the icy brush of wind.
I woke up feeling dizzy, I had fallen asleep. My eyes felt drowsy and thawed under the freezing temperature. My body felt tired and used. What did I ever do to be worked up like this? I palmed my chest and felt that my heartbeat was somewhat rising. It left me worried. . .
Now, I was back downtown. Along the covered in white concrete, there I stood. The cold wind seemed to blow colder there than outside this gate, it made a shrill noise howling in those scenarios. Glimpsing around the shady location, finally, the people were raising their feeble lanterns to dazzle the scenery.
I stepped through, and I noticed a large crowd gathered around the massive Christmas tree. I stood alone in a sea of people, witnessing many families, couples, and even workers huddled together. In this world of millions, I had never felt more alone.
“5. . . 4. . .”
“3. . . 2. . .”
“1. . .”
I saw him again at the last number. Observing the Christmas tree. At the same time, a brilliant beam illuminated his face, causing it to glow in multiple hues, in contrast to the Christmas lights. His gaze never left the Christmas tree, and his serious expression never changed.
Among this midst of crowds, I only saw you.
From there, I remembered you. Your initiation accompanied me even in places the most hostile to romance. We walked through the flaring streets, fingers laced tightly, scared to lose one another. I did not know how to act, whether I should harp those gestures into romance or not.
How could I tell you my confused adoration?
How could your presence linger on this wintry day? I did not know, and I didn't want to know. When the short days of winter came to dawn, the drizzling spring would finally envelop us. Despite the possible reasons for you leaving me, I didn't hold them and concluded to adhere, and wait for you under this cruel winter. Not wanting to be desperate, however, I was looking for an explanation.
“Are you leaving me again?” I mentally remarked, noticing his figurine getting distant once more.
I hurriedly sailed across the vast populace, trying to locate him occasionally. A considerable emphasis felt weighted over me as I struggled to get out of the crowd.
Please. . .wait for me. . .
I begged along the heavens, but to which he didn't attend. Finally, I was able to leave the scene, feeling relieved that I was eventually free from my chains. I scurried toward his figure as he came into contact with a dim and renounced alleyway.
There, I shouted his name. I was huffing and incapable of hearing him. Due to the chilly and arid temperature, my breathing became short as a rivulet of cold mist raved out of my mouth. He came to a break but did not attempt to veer around.
“Callisto. . .”
What seemed like a thousand, he shifted. Rather than turning around to face me, he walked away from the scene. I felt colder when I caught a glimpse of him building better speed to quickly flee the scene.
Was I ever worth it?
How could you leave me?
Those luminous blue eyes, through which I used to see the true me. The long, fair neck, the cold-skin feeling to the skin, but with the warmest and tenderest touch of comfort. Those airy giggle melodies, nearly like a feather. A humorous style, keeping me apart with melancholy.
Along these winter roads, would I ever stumble upon you again? Those glaze of possibilities that kept mizzling over me didn't seem to stop, or would it? The place seemed to have nearly ended its overgrown, but I wouldn't end ours.
My shouts echoed in the silent street, but you never showed. We left our shadows in our hostile state, not minding the romance, leaving it be. The path we took gave us the spotlight. We took off but nonetheless.
Yet, I was in the frozen nights of December.
"A Glimpse of Eternity" by Hailey Olivarez
“What is love?” I wondered as I gazed upon the most ravishing stars from my window on Christmas Eve.
I was born into a family of witches, where I was cursed to never let a man fall in love with me. Anyone who would dare take my hand would burn to ashes every Christmas at midnight, which made me wonder what love really was.
My family was against the idea of falling in love with a mortal. Hence, they embedded a curse on me the moment I turned 18. After months of convincing them to break my curse, they still wouldn’t listen to me. I soon left and went far away from them where they couldn’t find me. I wanted to feel freedom, too.
I did everything I could to stop falling in love, yet I couldn’t. All of them burned to ashes. I promised myself to not let anyone else suffer from my curse, yet I kept repeating the same mistake.
I once had a lover whom I treasured so much. Because of how happy I spent my time with him, I forgot about my curse. It was Christmas Eve, and we were happily preparing to open our presents when the clock suddenly struck midnight. He screamed in agony as he burned into ashes right in front of my very eyes.
I kept repeating this for years. I couldn’t stop myself. No matter how hard I tried, history always sought to repeat itself over and over again.
I then met another man that I thought I would never find anyone like him ever again. He was sweet, charming, and caring. He was everything. But I knew to myself that what I was doing was wrong. I couldn’t take the risk of dragging him into my curse. I tried to stay away from him, yet he kept coming back toward me.
He was in the same department where I worked, and there was no way I could avoid him. He would walk me home, and I had no choice but to go along with him.
One night, we were having a little chat as he walked me home. “Why are you running away from me?” He caressed my hair. I felt tingles down my spine and ran away before I could even react. Because of the small things he kept doing to me, I slowly fell in love.
Before I knew it, I stopped avoiding him. We were both sitting on a couch inside his house when he suddenly went closer to me, looking at my lips. He stroked my hair as we both kissed. I flinched and attempted to run away from him again. But this time, he stopped me. He pulled my hand. “Why do you keep running away from me? I thought you loved me back?” He slowly let go of my hand.
I ran and ran again as tears fell from my eyes. The midnight rain poured as bittersweet memories flowed through me. I couldn’t take it anymore. It was already the month of December. I needed to get away from him before it was too late. I loved him, but I didn’t want him to die like the others. He was different.
I quickly packed my things and booked a flight to the other side of the world. It felt nostalgic; it reminded me of my younger self trying to run away from my family.
I was lucky enough to find a slot in the airplane that night. All I had to do was adjust to my new lifestyle.
Days passed, and it was already Christmas Eve. I took a stroll around the neighborhood and admired the little children caroling.
As I walked, I bumped into someone’s back. He turned around, and before we could both say something, we flinched in surprise. It was him. It was the man I left not so long ago. Before I could say a word, he offered to spend Christmas with him. “If you’re free, do you want to come to my family’s house? My mom cooked a feast. We have a lot to catch up on,” he smiled.
I knew I couldn’t say yes, but it was tempting. Just seeing his face would already make me melt. I was about to decline him, but his mom appeared out of nowhere. “Is she your girlfriend?” She stood beside him.
“Don’t you have a family? Come with us, dear. I cooked enough food for you to eat, too.” She held my hand. There was no way I could say no anymore. It was there I learned that he also lived in the same neighborhood where I moved. Maybe we were really destined to be together.
We ate a feast. As I laughed with him, I noticed the clock turned 10. “It’s late. I should get going,” I told him and picked up my bag. “No, stay here and spend the night. It’s dangerous outside at this hour.” He stopped me.
He was just too nice for me to say no. Even worse, they didn’t have a spare room for me to sleep in. “You can sleep in my room if you want. I’ll sleep on the couch,” He directed me to his room. “No, no, I’ll sleep on the couch,” I hesitated. Both of us just looked at each other and laughed. “If you don’t mind, could I…sleep beside you?” He looked away. I laughed and said, “Sure.”
All I could do was pray that my curse would be broken. I couldn’t stand seeing him suffer.
We laid down on the bed, trying to fit in. “It’s kind of a small bed, isn’t it? Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” he said lying down uncomfortably. “No, don’t go anywhere,” I laid on his arm. “Much better, right?” It wasn’t long ‘till we cuddled ourselves to sleep.
The next day, as I opened my eyes, I was astonished to see him lying beside me, sleeping soundly. "Am I dreaming? Why is he still here? But it’s already Christmas day," I pinched myself to see if it was a dream, but it wasn't. I gently caressed his cheek if he would disappear, but he didn't.
It was a normal day, yet everything around me seemed to stride along the melodies of the wind. "Was this it? Was I finally free?” I covered my mouth as I slowly figured out what was going on. The tears flowed freely down my eyes. It wasn't tears of sadness or discontent. Instead, it was tears of completion. I was finally whole again. The color I never got to see blessed my eyes the moment the chains left my soul.
This time, my smile was real. It was a Christmas miracle.
"M and ?: Early For The Ride" by Isela Pabunan
Piercing frost burgeoned this afternoon. I knew because my gloves weren’t enough to warm my palms up; pockets of my coat served as a safe place. The gust of winter nip couldn’t contain itself above, hastily crawling down through the steel parts of the underground station. It felt as though the cold brought me early down here. I was supposed to be here for another hour, but I guess it was better to be early. This station was miles away from the usual one I ride to. The usual with him.
I saw people together with someone, or with their family. They seemed merry about the fact that the season was about to start, and it was only around the corner. Seventeenth was still a week away from twenty-fifth, and the station was already half filled with people perching by the posts, and the seats. It looked impossible for people to be alone down here. They brought someone with them, and I hadn’t. It felt odd riding the train home without someone—him. Even so, waiting for the train in his absence.
The bitter feeling I was witnessing complemented the atmosphere. It suddenly felt invigorating. Invigorating that built my courage to meet him again. Maybe unplanned, or coincidentally. Either way, I hoped to see him. At least just a glance.
A notification from my phone rang. It was our anniversary. I still haven’t tidied things since we ended. It rang at the same time he engulfed me in his arms, after telling—no, after giving him the sign that since then, I was captivated by his stunning personality. It rang at the same time he uttered his first "I love you" to me. Regardless of the sweet memories, I'd collected, I felt a sharp stab of jealousy right in my chest. How could he love me dearly without saving some left for himself? I looked up in front of me to see the train already there. Time to head in.
As I drifted from my stand to the train, someone ran into me, bumping my shoulders. It reminded me of how he would rush every morning after waking up late for his part-time job. He would bump into the blades of my sides, and mumble apologies.
“I’m so sorry I bumped into you. You see I’m rushing to get to work.” I gave the man a reassuring nod.
I hated how everything I encountered today would remind me of him and his habits engraved in the depth of my memories. I had tried moving on, and I understood it would take a long time. There was no use getting melancholy in the middle of this subway filled with busy people. Time wouldn't stop even when I was searching for images in my mind. Still, a picturesque painting stood and continued to visit me in my dreams.
A sigh of longing escaped my lips, I better go before this train leaves me.
Scanning diagonally, I seek a seat. Now that I was going home, it felt better to just forget about things. I knew I was not going to see him again, but the odds were low that on this day he would be going to his family again. Every day, I purposely showered myself with my perfume-laced mahogany, hoping to at least attract and catch his attention everywhere which is unlikely. My stop was just right before his if I remembered correctly. There was still a feeling where I long for his presence until I finally got to say, “I get to see you again." Finally settling down, I grabbed the newspaper from my bag that I bought earlier. It felt soothing to read the news. This was going to be a long ride.
The platform edge doors opened by the time I finished reading. This was the second stop after mine. I folded my newspaper and neatly slid them into the pockets of my bag. There, my boredom would soon strike. A familiar figure shook its head, left and right. Maybe they were in need of finding a seat? I glanced at their faces and saw...who I ought to meet. He sat down on the seat in front of me, which...was the most unexpected today. The way he sat on the seat seemed like he was going to stay there for hours. His seat seemed so cozy; how I wished I was with mine. I saw how he went to get the book and read it for the rest of the lift. He still looked like the proper person I knew. I didn’t know what aspects he changed into, but after all of these times, he was still the same person I waited with at this same station.
Unknowingly, my lips curved into a smile as soon as he diverted his attention from his book to me. It seemed as though he had finished a lot of chapters from the book he was reading. How I wished for you to look up. How I missed looking at you for hours. Especially in this cold season where I would find myself creating fantasies as I examined every part of your face.
A clear bead of pearl slid down his cheeks as his eyes widened while they look at mine. I knew it had been months, maybe let this encounter of ours be a simple greeting to you? I already wanted to tell you a lot of things yet we were not in the right situation to talk about it. I was sorry if I looked at you just earlier, and sorry for making my gaze a reminder of our past, but still, Merry Christmas to you. With that, I left the train without hesitation. It was already my stop and I didn’t think things were worth saying anymore. I had hurt him again.
"Going back to Christmas (Literally)" by Ley Anne Caringal
“I told you, Ma. I’m way too old for this,” I said while putting the candies back down. Mother looked at me sadly. She wanted to say something but she just smiled at me and gave me the look, ‘I understand.’
“Your Ate is not feeling well, children. It will be me, who will throw the candies. Is that okay?” The kids nodded with big smile on their faces. “Why are you not joining them?” my grandmother asked, following me outside. “I don’t feel the same way anymore, La. The excitement…it’s gone.” I hugged myself as I felt the Christmas air.
“What were you looking forward to before? The gifts? The money?” Grandmother asked in a joking manner. I smiled and chuckled a little at my grandmother’s teasing face. “Here, have some candy. I saved one for you.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll get going. I can’t miss the kids getting candies,” she winked and headed inside. I popped the candy in my mouth and decided to spend Christmas in my room. Our house was a two-story house. It was not that big and not that small, but big enough for a family of four: me, my brother, my mother, and my grandmother. It was also big enough to be the place where we celebrate events.
I immediately felt sleepy when I entered the room. I decided to not change my clothes and just sleep. It was a tiring day after all. I deserved this. I was not sure if I was sleepy or if I was really getting dizzy. Nonetheless, I knew sleep was the only answer.
I woke up due to my throbbing head. I felt like my head was smashed. “I need to get some water,” I muttered to myself. I looked outside the window and noticed that it was still nighttime and there was still a firework display. Did I even fall asleep? I got up and went thru my—
Huh?
This was not the color of my door.
I looked around and that was when I realized that this room didn’t look like my recent room. It was like I was back in 2017. I faced the door and saw four big numbers saying ‘2017.’
Am I hallucinating? I asked myself. I didn’t even drink…am I sick or something?
I closed my eyes tightly and took a deep breath. I searched for the doorknob because I couldn’t look at my door’s design. I just couldn’t. The design was very…very unicornish.
Ten seconds passed but I couldn’t find my doorknob. As I opened my eyes, I could see my hands in the door. Like literally. My hand went through the door. I shook my head and went through it. I went down and I could see myself laughing.
Yeah, I could see little Charlotte laughing because her brother lost in the game. How I wish I could laugh that loud again. How I wish I could play games again with my brother and cousins.
I smiled at the view of me laughing. I headed to our garage and saw four big numbers again. It was ‘2018’ now.
I saw myself smiling genuinely while handing the gifts to my relatives. It wasn’t even from me. It was from my Mother. I looked at my mother’s expression and she was smiling ear-to-ear while watching me.
I went outside and it was now ‘2019.’
We were lighting a paputok called ‘lusis.” I was holding my brother’s hand. We were laughing and our mother was taking a video of us. I smile. I looked around and saw my relatives laughing at my younger cousins who were scared.
After the firework display, I went inside and the four numbers turned to 2020. I was assigned to throw the candies and looking back, I really did love Christmas.
I ran back up and the numbers turned back to the recent year. I ran as fast as I could, stumbling a bit.
“Ate, are you okay?” Charles, my brother, asks. I nodded and went to my grandmother who was smiling at me very weirdly. I was about to ask her a question but I decided to not continue. I faced my mother who was holding the basket of candies.
“Can I?” She smiled and gave it to me.
As I threw the candies, I realized that Christmas was not really about gifts. It was about giving love and being loved. It was where families bonded without thinking about something. It was also celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ. I should be spending time with my family and enjoying the day of giving.
"12/23/22" by Honey Grace Tolentino
I used to hide a lot of things underneath my thoughts. I used to be a person whose words were never spoken, thinking that they were irrelevant and nonsensical. I was the type of person who was just there.
I never dared to leave my comfort zone for I feared being judged by the people, but here I was, standing outside my box. Doing so, I could finally see how small my box was. The box which I thought of as my whole world. I never knew that stepping out would make me see thousands of new points of view. I never knew that it would give me something that would make me who I was now. I grew as a person and I could finally see it for myself. I could finally believe the words they have said.
I have loved reading and writing since I was a child. I remembered, every time after we watched a movie, I would head into my own world and create a new ending. I didn't know the reason why I liked doing that, I just did. Oh, and another thing: I started to write stories. I would start them and it was funny how I never finished any of those stories. The plots were a chef's kiss though.
I remembered that time when I had this person who I considered my number one fan and still was. He was there to read the stories I made no matter how absurd the plot was. We were able to talk about things related to it and thanks to that, I was able to unhinge my creativity and surpass my writer's block. I was really grateful to have him as the first person to read my works.
But now look, it was not only him who could read them. It was not only he who could see them. I got thousands of people to read my masterpiece. That one choice I had. That one decision I made. It changed my life. "If you were to go back in time to tell one thing to your younger self, what would it be?" the interviewer asked, eyes shining in anticipation for my answer. "Believe in your talent. Believe in the people around you—your friends and family, and believe that you can and you will," I answered. "You will stumble and get tired of writing, but that's normal. You will feel fear and it will tear you apart inside but continue writing. Just continue writing until you find your colors again."
Yes, until every December of your life you would sit near the fireplace and have a hot chocolate drink in your hand, silently thinking about the small steps you took that led to a bigger outcome you had. Until you could see the bustling people roaming around the venue where you finally had the chance to meet the people who read your stories.
"Coffee, miss author?" my friend offered. I laughed at his gesture. He handed me the cup he was holding as if he had been waiting for some free time to reach out and give it to me. "Oh, dear, gladly," I giggled, taking the cup from his hand. We sat down in front of the huge window pane watching the people outside do their own routines in life. Some were sweeping the snow to the side, others were busy walking to their destination. Children were playing in the snow and I could clearly see the white fog forming with every breath they sigh.
Geez, thank goodness for the heaters in this building. I felt as warm as I could. I shivered at the thought of going outside and feeling the cold breeze of Christmas wind as the snow fell above our heads.
"I'm proud of you," he suddenly said. I was surprised by a sudden compliment that it took me a few seconds to react. A small laugh escaped my mouth and a smile formed as I shook my head, playing with the rim of my cup. "Why are you laughing? I'm telling the truth. I'm so proud of you." I laughed harder after he said that.
"Seriously, Vanna. I'm proud of you. I'm so proud of you. I've watched you grow as an author. I've watched you get the hell out of your comfort zone and speak louder with your words using your pen and paper," he voiced out. "I'm…I'm just so proud of how far you've got, Vanna—Jiovanna." I chuckled at the way he emphasized my pen name. Then, I looked at him. How lucky I was to have him as my friend. He left his pending work and left with me to Canada for this event. "Thank you," I said. He immediately turned and said, "No problem, Jiovanna." Laughter filled our spot as I could not help but be my goofy self around him.
"By the way, when will Maureen and Venice arrive?" he asked. "Oh, didn't Beatrice tell you they'll travel here together?" He frowned. "She might have…I guess." My eyes widened in disbelief as I struggled to choose between sympathizing or laughing at him. I chose the latter. "Dude, what the—your girlfriend will smack you in the head hard."
I, the person who thought she was nothing before, could finally say what I wanted to say. I could finally inspire those whose hearts were swindled by their anxious thoughts to try and come forward. Now, I could even roam the world and see the beauty it had. How lucky I was to have that chance given to me. That December when I was finally able to reach my dreams.
A very lovely Christmas gift I received.
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