Silent Night, Holy Night

I suppose you would think of me as foolish. Doubtless, you'd do the same as any parent would, and tell me to get to bed before I get my hide tanned. I wouldn't blame you; not really, because my sensible side, if there is such a thing, would agree with you. There is something quite achingly beautiful about a quiet, peaceful snowfall that smooths the events of the day over, and brings a sort of lonely peace, like a piano playing by itself, knowing that it has to provide all the counter-melodies and feelings.

This is one of those things I most wish to share. I suppose you could say it's one of those facets of my person, and this one in particular sits near the "romantic" facet. It's the stories like these, which aren't overly passionate or romantic, but sweet in their simplicity. I think the most beautiful proclamation of love is from a book that isn't romantic in the least. It means so much more when it's not uttered every few minutes. The phrase, "I love you," is a precious one, if only because of its rarity. What's so important? True love, of course.

I don't mean to forever ramble about loneliness, but it's one of those ever present things. I know God is always with me, beside me, but it is not good for a man to be alone, much less a woman, or even a half-mature, half-grown girl such as myself. Our dear Savior, in His kindness, saw fit to provide us with friends, family, so on...it's just only a little hard to wait for what He has in store.

The best might be yet to come, but as a forever reminder of my humanity, I always want the best now, so I can share a quiet night with him in the holy silence of a secret snowfall.

~Fumble