As we lay our heads down this Christmas Eve may we say a prayer for the greatest gift of all.
Peace On Earth.
Blessings to everyone no matter where you are.
from Amanda and family
And here is one of the most touching and beautiful poems for those of you who may be alone this Christmas by the amazing Shane Koyczan.
For The Loneliest City
If you are alone on Christmas
go to the nearest 24 hour something
and I or one of my associates
will meet you there
maybe I’m the someteen-year-old kid
who’s working the graveyard shift alone
because my mother is sick
and my little brother is hungry
and I am plugged into my no name brand i-thing
listening to endurance on repeat
because it sounds a lot like my heart beat
and right now that sound
is the only thing
getting me through this
for no other reason than I need to hear it again
or
maybe I’m the old woman
slumped over my coffee
as if it were a tiny mirror
casting reflections
of all the friends I’ve outlived
knowing that if they were here now
they’d comfort me over the family that isn’t
whether I’m someone or somebody
sit down or stand up
and say hello
don’t be afraid
I could be the guy dressed in thin white hair
wearing a pair of cataracts
and rocking arthritic hands
like I was throwing up gang signs
repping a club of crazies so feared
that at night
we keep our teeth in glasses of water
displaying them like ancient weapons
that are being cleaned for battle
the next day
or maybe I’m the girl
the one who’s just here to pick up my paycheck
crossing my fingers
that the manager doesn’t spot me
because I’ve been on for 11 days straight
with no time to do laundry
and I have to do laundry
because I got an interview for something better
no offense
this job was honest work
but a few lousy tips
and nightly marriage proposals
from the after hour drunks
who waltz in and out of my life as gracelessly
as the mailman delivering the next installment of bad news
isn’t what’s going to pay off my student loan
maybe I’m the someone
that no one has looked in the eyes for three days straight
and I’ve given up rattling the cup
and asking for change
because all I want right now
is for someone to see me
maybe I’m the one walking past you
unable to look you in the eyes
because I really do have nothing to give
and I’ve already reached my yearly quota
of disappointing everyone around me
so I’m sorry
but I just can’t bring myself
to be the next letdown
in your life
please forgive me
maybe I’m the father
who’s letting his little girl sip my coffee
because it’s cold outside
and I’m doing the best I can to keep her warm
and I am nervous to give my daughter
the teddy bear that I rescued from a garbage can
because I can’t afford anything
other than the effort it takes to just keep trying
and I’m nervous because this bear is a lot like me
torn apart and sewn back together so many times
that I can’t even tell what’s holding me together
I’m shabby, dirty, loose in the joints
and I’m just hoping that my little girl
can see the better parts of our similarities
that as broken as we seem
our hearts still work
maybe I’m the someone
who doesn’t need your understanding of my gender
because it takes more strength to accept myself
than it ever would to sacrifice the best parts of me and assume the role you want me in
for the sake of your comfort
my life is not a choice
it is a statement of fact
no designation required
not I am
wonder/guess
I am
maybe I’m the somebody
covered in cuts
as if my lover’s lips are made of thin steel
and I’m hoping tonight
they’re going to kiss me a little deeper
because lately, I’ve been having trouble feeling it
and truthfully
I’ve never felt needed or wanted
so tonight I’ll settle for feeling noticed
if I wasn’t here
would you notice?
some lives are so quick they fit inside fortune cookies
and read like apologies
sorry, try again
whoever I am
I have a life
and what that really means
is that I have story
and maybe it’s not as bright or as shiny
as you’d like it to be
maybe it’s got a few too many funerals and not enough
kittens in baskets
or sneezing baby pandas
maybe it’s covered in mistakes
and oozing with regrets
maybe it’s too much after too much
and the only thing that gets me through it
is the promise of a next chapter
because please please this story’s got to change
and I only just realized I’m the one holding the pen
maybe I’m ready
maybe maybe
the word itself
may be
it is the optimism of uncertainty
it’s the way we say hope without having to say hope
maybe our stories can save us
maybe you’ve heard this one before
maybe this one
is nothing special
told by no one of consequence
maybe my body
and my story
are the only things I have
and it’s Christmas
so I’d like to give you something
so if you want it
here’s my story
it’s sad in some places
but its only purpose is to reassure you that
if you are alone on Christmas
you are not alone.
who’s working the graveyard shift alone
because my mother is sick
and my little brother is hungry
and I am plugged into my no name brand i-thing
listening to endurance on repeat
because it sounds a lot like my heart beat
and right now that sound
is the only thing
getting me through this
for no other reason than I need to hear it again
or
maybe I’m the old woman
slumped over my coffee
as if it were a tiny mirror
casting reflections
of all the friends I’ve outlived
knowing that if they were here now
they’d comfort me over the family that isn’t
whether I’m someone or somebody
sit down or stand up
and say hello
don’t be afraid
I could be the guy dressed in thin white hair
wearing a pair of cataracts
and rocking arthritic hands
like I was throwing up gang signs
repping a club of crazies so feared
that at night
we keep our teeth in glasses of water
displaying them like ancient weapons
that are being cleaned for battle
the next day
or maybe I’m the girl
the one who’s just here to pick up my paycheck
crossing my fingers
that the manager doesn’t spot me
because I’ve been on for 11 days straight
with no time to do laundry
and I have to do laundry
because I got an interview for something better
no offense
this job was honest work
but a few lousy tips
and nightly marriage proposals
from the after hour drunks
who waltz in and out of my life as gracelessly
as the mailman delivering the next installment of bad news
isn’t what’s going to pay off my student loan
maybe I’m the someone
that no one has looked in the eyes for three days straight
and I’ve given up rattling the cup
and asking for change
because all I want right now
is for someone to see me
maybe I’m the one walking past you
unable to look you in the eyes
because I really do have nothing to give
and I’ve already reached my yearly quota
of disappointing everyone around me
so I’m sorry
but I just can’t bring myself
to be the next letdown
in your life
please forgive me
maybe I’m the father
who’s letting his little girl sip my coffee
because it’s cold outside
and I’m doing the best I can to keep her warm
and I am nervous to give my daughter
the teddy bear that I rescued from a garbage can
because I can’t afford anything
other than the effort it takes to just keep trying
and I’m nervous because this bear is a lot like me
torn apart and sewn back together so many times
that I can’t even tell what’s holding me together
I’m shabby, dirty, loose in the joints
and I’m just hoping that my little girl
can see the better parts of our similarities
that as broken as we seem
our hearts still work
maybe I’m the someone
who doesn’t need your understanding of my gender
because it takes more strength to accept myself
than it ever would to sacrifice the best parts of me and assume the role you want me in
for the sake of your comfort
my life is not a choice
it is a statement of fact
no designation required
not I am
wonder/guess
I am
maybe I’m the somebody
covered in cuts
as if my lover’s lips are made of thin steel
and I’m hoping tonight
they’re going to kiss me a little deeper
because lately, I’ve been having trouble feeling it
and truthfully
I’ve never felt needed or wanted
so tonight I’ll settle for feeling noticed
if I wasn’t here
would you notice?
some lives are so quick they fit inside fortune cookies
and read like apologies
sorry, try again
whoever I am
I have a life
and what that really means
is that I have story
and maybe it’s not as bright or as shiny
as you’d like it to be
maybe it’s got a few too many funerals and not enough
kittens in baskets
or sneezing baby pandas
maybe it’s covered in mistakes
and oozing with regrets
maybe it’s too much after too much
and the only thing that gets me through it
is the promise of a next chapter
because please please this story’s got to change
and I only just realized I’m the one holding the pen
maybe I’m ready
maybe maybe
the word itself
may be
it is the optimism of uncertainty
it’s the way we say hope without having to say hope
maybe our stories can save us
maybe you’ve heard this one before
maybe this one
is nothing special
told by no one of consequence
maybe my body
and my story
are the only things I have
and it’s Christmas
so I’d like to give you something
so if you want it
here’s my story
it’s sad in some places
but its only purpose is to reassure you that
if you are alone on Christmas
you are not alone.
Sharbat Gula, I Pray For You.