She sat huddled up in a corner holding the phone close to her ear...warm tears rolled down her red cheeks penetrating her skin frozen with cold. Through the silent sobbing, she listened intently...the music seemed to conjure images and words in her head. School. Green gates. The choir. Red shirts. Santa. Christmas. Its the choir singing. The woman's voice seemed to quiver over the music. She whispered a soft yes. Do you want to hear more of it? This time she could not manage to mouth an answer...she wanted to be there...to be a part of that melody that rose from the choir which had just started the 'Silent night'. The voice hummed along with the old carol. She remembered metro rides...standing in a huddle trying to get the harmony right...of tired passengers wondering why a bunch of stupid, giggly girls had suddenly broken into song. I miss you everytime I listen to the choir sing. She wanted to thank the voice...she wanted to say that she missed singing for the choir too...They were mornings when the sun shined through its winter haze...squinting at a world getting dressed for Christmas. The big tree next to the piano was decked up and the choir stands were arranged right in front of the stage. Bells, stars and mistletoe adorned the hall. And she missed those days...they were so much a part of her. What touched her was that she had not been forgotten...even though she was miles away....there was still someone who wanted her to hear the choir sing...who wanted her to be a part of the festivities which she so loved...to fill the void that she had left. She felt empty inside. There were no more Christmas celebrations...no more choir practices...no more bells or mistletoe...except that one star, hanging in a distant balcony along with linen....shining in glory to the Lord.
(to Ma'am, with love)
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