A 100-Word Story
Much the alarm of a grandmother, I picked up the baby and ran, leaving the Christmas celebrations in our wake.
Gathering the festive crinolines around her tiny feet for warmth, we dashed out to the front yard, and I pointed up to the sharp winter sky. “Look, Little Miss, it’s the Christmas star!” And she laughed and giggled and leaned into me — a shared delight.
“Remember,” I said, “That’s the star the wise men followed.”
Who’s to say, of course, if it was just a plane as I was admonished. The spirit whispered love and hope and sweet small wonders.
Photo ©NASA/Bill Dunford