December 14, 2013

Your Light Has Come by Pamela Mytroen

Anna slapped the alarm off and flopped back down in bed. She had hoped Christmas Eve morning would somehow be different but it turned out to be just as dark and cold and lonely as any other day this winter. Working during the holidays meant longer hours, demanding customers, and darkness. Always darkness. Tomb-black in the mornings when she drove to work and dreary and grey when she returned home every evening.

She pushed the mounds of blankets away from her sock-covered feet. It was this season when her Jimmy was taken from her. Now her bed was cold and the car was always frozen every morning.

Her grandchildren would be gone this year to their other grandparents, so what was the sense of baking their favourite gingersnaps and sugar cookies? Why bother putting up the Christmas lights? That had been Jimmy's job, and now he went and left her in the shadows.

Anna closed her eyes and walked to the bathroom. She was getting good at walking around in the darkness. She slipped on her deli uniform, pinned her hair up, and trudged into the kitchen.

Leaving the lights off she placed a mug under her coffee machine. The yellow light blinked on. She turned away from it and folded her arms, listening to its hiss. That's when she noticed the frost on the window. She rubbed her eyes, trying to make sense of what she saw. How could it be? The streetlight illuminated it from the outside. Maybe that's why it appeared so ethereal.

She stepped to the window and breathed over the feathery, frosty design. Her name, Anna, had been etched in delicate crystals, and with the next breath Jimmy's name swirled across the pane, along with the names of her three grandchildren. Light sparkled from the window and bathed her in a shimmer of warmth. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them quickly again like she had done on Christmas mornings long ago - to be sure it was really true - that there was a gift under the tree that bore her name. The names of her precious loved ones whispered across the window like northern lights and then they were gone, and the frost returned to silent kaleidoscopes.

The coffee machine gave one final hiss and spurt. She didn't want to turn away from the wonder washing over her. She hadn't felt this new and alive for. . . well since Jimmy's last Christmas.

Anna finally reached for the coffee mug, sat down, and warmed her hands around it. She grabbed a pen and scratched out a list across the back of her power bill: sugar, sprinkles, lights, and a real tree. What else would she need? Oh, ginger and cloves.

Anna stood up and moved to the window. With the first rays of sun, the frost glittered in lavender and pink. Her light had come. The Artist had remembered her and had brushed a ballet of hope across her icy soul.

She had waited in darkness long enough. Welcome, Christmas, welcome.

"Arise, shine, for your light has come and the glory of the Lord rises upon you" (Isaiah 60:1).

Pamela Mytroen


  1. A wonderful, sensitive story, Pam. Christmas can be a lonely, dark time for some. May stories such as this be read by those who need it most. Blessings on your story.

  2. Yes, this really is a beautiful story, Pam. I love how the "God happening" resurrected a sense of hope in your main character.

  3. Thanks Sharon and Marcia. I love writing Christmas stories because you can always tuck in a little miracle.

  4. What a beautiful story, Pam! It's good to be reminded of all the people for whom Christmas is a sad, painful time.

  5. Hey Pam:
    A comfortable story told in your uniquely colourful prose. Thanks for that gentle blast of warmth.
    We have friends who would like to sleep through December because it's so painful for them. And there are too many like that.

  6. Thanks Tracy, Violet, and Bryan. I am becoming aware of more and more people who experience profound sadness at Christmas time. Wish I could do more for them, but I suppose even reaching out in a small way is appreciated.


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