“Tis the night before Christmas ”
…and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring,
not even hope.
The tree stood lit, but unevenly
half the bulbs burned out,
the other half blinking like tired eyes
trying to stay open.
Stockings hung anyway,
out of habit more than belief,
their heels sagging, empty.
The clock ticked too loudly,
each second a reminder
that some chairs would stay vacant.
A plate of cookies dried at the edges,
milk warming into a skin no one would drink.
Someone had meant to replace them,
once.
Snow fell outside in a way
that felt less like magic
and more like quiet erasure
covering footsteps that would never return,
smoothing over paths no one would walk again.
There were gifts beneath the tree,
carefully wrapped, painfully thoughtful,
for people who wouldn’t be there to open them.
Name tags written in familiar handwriting,
the kind that makes your chest tighten
before your eyes do.
In the hallway, a bedroom door stayed closed.
Inside, a life paused mid-sentence:
an unmade bed,
a sweater still smelling faintly of them,
a laugh trapped in the walls.
Midnight came softly.
No reindeer.
No magic.
Just the understanding that
Christmas still arrives
even when joy doesn’t.
And somewhere between the last chime
and the long silence after,
the house learned a cruel truth:
Some nights are remembered forever,
not for what they give,
but for what they take away.
Not everyone's Christmas story is happy
Happy christmas to all my stake family
Stake id Lavish99
