Christmas Illumination

December 25, 1896
Edith Bowen

“Do you miss them?” I asked.

I was snuggled warm in his arms, laying peacefully in his bed. Gently, he kissed the top of my head and his arms seemed to wrap tighter around me.

“All the time.” He replied.

“Then why do you do it?”

“It is complicated. They have a better future this way.”

“I do not mean to be contrary, but futures have a way of not becoming what we expect of them.”

“For wrong or right I chose what I believe to be best. I do not know how else to live.”

“Whatever they will get from their grandparents cannot replace a loving father.”

“I am here when it matters most.”

“How do you know?”

“I know.”


“Hush Edith. Has anyone ever told you, you talk too much?”


I smiled as he attempted to tickle my sides. I squirmed free and rolled out of bed into the cold morning air. I expected him to follow but he just stared at me with a look of pure contentment on his face. Suddenly, I was self conscious about my nakedness in front of him. It was absurd after the night we had just shared but I blushed all the same.

My eyes darted away from his gaze and out the frosty window. In the distance, over snow covered hills, the sun kissed the morning sky with a brilliant gleam of light. For a moment I stood illuminated in its golden warmth. He took in a sharp breath and I turned back to him.

“You look like an angel.” Jeremiah Stark said.

“Merry Christmas.” I replied.

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