Guest Writer 
In the soft glow of Christmas lights, I found myself seated by the window, a pen in hand, pouring my heart’s whispers onto paper – a letter to God. Laughter resonated through the room, a symphony of joy from friends gathered around, yet in the moments between carols, my thoughts weaved a delicate tapestry of memories and emotions.
“God, I am doing fine now,” I began, my words a reflection of the newfound happiness that Christmas had graciously ushered into my life. Outside, snowflakes painted a serene tableau, mirroring the quiet transformation within.
As I penned each line, the ink became an artistry of gratitude and resilience. Memories of the person I once fervently prayed for surfaced like delicate ornaments on a tree. Our conversations had dwindled to silence, but the absence he left behind became a poignant reminder of the strength that had blossomed within me. His laughter, once the melody of my nights, now echoed in the laughter of newfound friends.
The letter continued, a melody of healing and hope.
“I pray you keep him well too,” I whispered to the Divine.
Among wishes for his faith, health, and dreams, I acknowledged the pain we had exchanged. Yet, beneath it all, there was a plea for love to embrace him through the chosen companions he now held close.
With each word, the room seemed to fill with a sense of closure and peace.
“We don’t talk anymore, and it’s okay,” I admitted, releasing the weight of unspoken words.
“Please, keep him talking to you at least. Love him for me,” I concluded, sealing the letter with a silent prayer.
Outside, the snow continued its descent, casting a quiet magic over the world. My letter, now an emissary of resilience and the transformative power of love, found its place in the Christmas story of healing and letting go.
