The Light on Evergreen Street
Snow fell softly on Evergreen Street, turning every rooftop into a sugar-dusted dream. Most houses glowed with warm lights, but one window stayed dark—the old house at the end of the road.
Lily noticed it every evening as she walked home, her boots crunching through snow. “Someone should check on that house,” she told her dad. “Christmas is almost here.”
Her dad smiled. “Maybe you should.”
So the next day, Lily wrapped up a small box of cookies, tied with a red ribbon, and walked to the dark house. She knocked once. Then twice.
The door creaked open to reveal an elderly man with kind eyes and a surprised smile. “Well,” he said, “I haven’t had a visitor in a long time.”
Lily held out the cookies. “Merry Christmas.”
Inside, the house was quiet and cold, with no tree, no decorations—only dust and memories. The man, Mr. Harris, explained that his family used to fill the house with music and laughter, but they’d been gone for many years. Decorating alone felt too lonely.
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