We went to war. For years. I think we bridged a shaky truce and now, in my hand, you look so small and harmless, the most docile pearl, waiting to be claimed and strung and worn around my neck.
I don’t know why I’m still fearing your earthquakes.
What's all this business about French Christmas?
- My name—Noël—has been mispronounced, mislabeled, and mistaken since my parents bestowed it upon me one snowy March afternoon. It wasn't until a friend nicknamed me "French Christmas" that it came into focus. How much would our lives change if we could just see things differently?
Other Peeps Who See It Differently
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January 30, 2013
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You have become that pearl. Embrace her.
Posted by: dragonfly | January 31, 2013 at 07:10 PM
For me, old habits die hard - no matter the situation. Beautiful, Noel.
Posted by: Tracy Mangold | February 07, 2013 at 03:34 AM