The wind howled, carrying with it the patterns of snow that floated weightlessly and lazily downward from the sky above, each flake swirling and dancing with the crisp winter air before piling up in drifts. The street looked like an unfinished painting as it quickly got covered up by a pristine blanket of white. The foot prints of people heading home along with the cars’ icy tracks that had been imprinted on the road got quickly erased by an onslaught of fresh fallen white snow. All around the quiet neighborhood, the great stone houses were covered in colored fairy lights and Christmas ornaments. From the gates, through the front yards all the way to the main doors, every inch was embellished with the red and green colors of the holiday and the white snow.

Not far away, joy watched the scene unfold itself in front of her as she sat down near the window, a white thick blanket draped over her legs and a mug full of hot coco in her hands. Like everyone around, she had always waited for this wonderful time of the year that was filled with cheer and happiness and where she was surrounded by love and cared for by the most wonderful people around. Unfortunately, this year Christmas lost all meaning, it no longer represented the happiest time of the year and Joy held back tears as she remembered her parents. Her mother’s warm, loving smile flashed before her eyes and it felt like someone shoved their hands through her chest and squeezed her heart. Her parents had been in a tragic car accident a month before, and the night of their death was the night Joy had lost everything. As she sat by the window watching her neighbors shuffling back home, their kids building crooked snowmen, Joy had to endure the silence that hung in the air and roamed every corner of the house along with the nostalgic memories of her parents. She remembered how she’d be helping her mother in the kitchen preparing different dishes, especially her delicious homemade cookies, something she enjoyed a lot about Christmas. She loved the time she had to bond with her mother while her father would be struggling and grumbling to settle down the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room next to the decorated fireplace. He would soon call for her to finish up the decorations on her own, to which she would happily oblige. It was something she enjoined doing since she was a little girl, though her tiny self needed help back then and her father was her savior as he would gladly aid her by lifting her up to hang the last ornament – a gold star she loved so much- but with time she took on the task of decorating the tree by herself. She would stare proudly at the Christmas tree adorned with glistening ornaments and glowing fairy lights draped around it. As soon as those memories came they immediately vanished, showcasing the bitter reality and reminding Joy of the hurtful truth. Her mug full of hot coco was long forgotten and turned cold, as she sadly stared with a weak smile plastered on her face at the now empty corner of the living room.

A thought crossed her mind, and her heart jumped in her chest. Should she put up the tree? She had been drowning in her loss and sorrow for a month now, and the thought of celebrating anything sounded like a personal offence to the memory of her parents. But her parents loved Christmas. Just like her, this holiday was their favorite part of the year and now the thought of decorating the tree in their memory felt more like a tribute to Joy than a tasteless distraction.

She stood up from her spot and made her w