Every year on the 15th of December my father, a short man, would go out and pick a live tree that often was 2 feet taller than he was. He would proudly haul this tree up four flights of stairs and into the apartment. The pine smelt amazing, and you could tell our father worked hard to pick the best tree.
My favourite tree was the one he hauled up those stairs, got it to the door, and in the house only to stand it up and it didn’t fit. We had to trim the top it was so tall. While I have never purchased a live tree, I cherished those memories and know Christmas is a time of celebration. Happy Yule, Merry Christmas, and a Cheerful Holiday to all my readers this year!
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Hello, My name is Damien Knight, I have self claimed many titles, Artist, Poet, Scientist. I have wrapped myself into these layers to define me. But I am caged into other titles, “Daughter, Mother, Sister.” SHUT UP! I want to scream, but I’m afraid.
I looked up the steep, snow-covered hill, and then looked over to my father. He looked tired and drained. I was glad to have him with me. My father was in the Army and he had recently returned from the field and soon would leave our home in Germany for Bosnia. I wanted to show him my favorite place to think before he left.
“It’s just up Suicide Hill, Dad, in the woods that line it. You can see the sunset there and it’s very beautiful,” I said. Continue reading →
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