βTis the night before Christmas, when all through the home,
a quiet so tender had settled like foam.
The fire gently crackled, the kettle sighed steam,
and hopes drifted softly between wake and dream.
Outside, snow stitched lace on the dark velvet sky,
while inside, warm laughter went dancing nearby.
Not a sound from the street, not a rush, not a raceβ
just the glow of togetherness lighting the place.
A child peeked out, eyes shining bright,
certain that wonder was close this night.
For Christmas, you see, isnβt wrapped up in bows,
or counted in gifts stacked high in rows.
It lives in the pause, in the stories we share,
in hands held tightly, in showing we care.
So as midnight whispered and dawn waited near,
the greatest gift came: love returning each year. πβ¨
Stake:- Ajay8698