The leaden gray sky had taken the white like the ceiling of a huge room the size of the horizon, all carpeted with a thick blanket of white snow where as I walked by slow and steady, a figure shrunk from the cold printed the steps he took.
He went to the window of the first of many houses that lined the avenue, where flickering lights decorated the Christmas trees that danced to the wind, they threw small white flakes, saturating them with the strides that shook hits in the storm.
peered through the glass. A smile curled his lips confusing them with the long gray beard that coalesced in the same color. Inside a child was playing near the fireplace, lit by it, which gathered the views of parents as if to caress her.
A Christmas Carol
Heated
soul with that family context, which went ahead through a small window, a faint light was felt that a call came through the window fogged. A small figure and bent by age snuggled up wrapped in a woolen shawl which denounced the years of use, barely covering the lean body that nestled next to the brazier. This supportive, warm the pot of coffee, which was his solace and companionship. The eyes of the man who once smiled, now joined in the sad solitude. His hands plucked the buttons that you fixed the mantle of the body, now removed and placed on the doorknob of the house, where drums before walking away.
continued the way in even silence of those who walk alone, until the sound of a voice interrupted her thought. He went where the voices came, which more closely, denounced a discussion. A couple sitting at the table, kept the empty plates in spite of the abundant table, announcing that it was the soul who lacked the food that the disagreement refused. Beside the window where I watched, a small garden where roses were resisting the latest dewdrops have turned into tiny diamonds that cold fabricated. Quickly picked two of them, leaving them at the door of the couple with two small paper tickets had written off the cuff on the doorstep. Rang the bell and rushed back to the path, while the voices fell silent in surprise touch.
Back to the silence of the hike, continued slowly, looking out a window, is a bit more enlightened than the rest. She looked slinky for the light that shone intensely a small oratory, where a mother kneeling raised his hands, as if seeking the linen cloth that will wipe the invisible tears that ran down her cheeks. Ahead, a father was sitting tilted head leaning on that hand, which he had taken in his, son of a sick and feverish. Outside the expression of that man's face had chimed with those parents who watched as he placed his palms flat on the windows, as projects have been the blessing that sort unknown until and then the unexpected smile of the child now announced discreet.
Around the track that he came became quiet, as was the soft snow that covered everything that he had passed and now moved. A low cry was shown to be discreet, perhaps heard only by those trained ears to hear the experience of those who cry in silence. Appeared at the window he realized that only by listening to the little light that insisted on leaving the windows to see. Two faces lined an empty table where a vase of flowers worth taking, the place where the meal is not occupied, leaving room for two pairs of hands that landed solidly on the towel as white as snow. The garments were plain dumb and patches shouted with pride care they received despite the use, now less intense activity, probably due to lack of work that plagued those who were wearing. Hasty, the man pulled a package of lined pockets where the next meal that kept telling her how the body and now refused. Joined him a few coins he had received as a free mason and beggar and left on the window ledge where he had beaten at the time of leaving.
continued to walk now turning to a figure that chance did you find it, huddled in a doorstep, where the heat is let out sneak under the door of a house also imposing heavy and warm, enhancing the heat pieces of card the cost ensured gently, like being wrapped the most fragile of beings. With careful not to wake the sleeping man almost unconscious on the cold, took out her old clothes and shoes that ruptured quickly and furtively exchanged for his, as if in exchange gain the best of treasures.
returned to the path he had taken before, leaning on a stick made of acacia wood, chasing the steps that were lighter now as the lighting of Christmas was leaning on the brilliance that took the eyes and the smile of the lips were silent and quiet at night open hands calmed the wind and cold. He looked at himself, happy with the open arms of contentment that the scanty clothing that was now taking place instead of the red robes he had used as even on Christmas Eve. There was no sleigh reindeer that were transported. It was the happiness she felt while giving to others. That was what made him feel the real Father Christmas in gestures and signs that only he understood.
Author: Sheikh
reproduced: Respestável Seller under the auspices of the Grand Orient Lusitano - Portuguese Freemasonry - Scottish Rite,
soul with that family context, which went ahead through a small window, a faint light was felt that a call came through the window fogged. A small figure and bent by age snuggled up wrapped in a woolen shawl which denounced the years of use, barely covering the lean body that nestled next to the brazier. This supportive, warm the pot of coffee, which was his solace and companionship. The eyes of the man who once smiled, now joined in the sad solitude. His hands plucked the buttons that you fixed the mantle of the body, now removed and placed on the doorknob of the house, where drums before walking away.
continued the way in even silence of those who walk alone, until the sound of a voice interrupted her thought. He went where the voices came, which more closely, denounced a discussion. A couple sitting at the table, kept the empty plates in spite of the abundant table, announcing that it was the soul who lacked the food that the disagreement refused. Beside the window where I watched, a small garden where roses were resisting the latest dewdrops have turned into tiny diamonds that cold fabricated. Quickly picked two of them, leaving them at the door of the couple with two small paper tickets had written off the cuff on the doorstep. Rang the bell and rushed back to the path, while the voices fell silent in surprise touch.
Back to the silence of the hike, continued slowly, looking out a window, is a bit more enlightened than the rest. She looked slinky for the light that shone intensely a small oratory, where a mother kneeling raised his hands, as if seeking the linen cloth that will wipe the invisible tears that ran down her cheeks. Ahead, a father was sitting tilted head leaning on that hand, which he had taken in his, son of a sick and feverish. Outside the expression of that man's face had chimed with those parents who watched as he placed his palms flat on the windows, as projects have been the blessing that sort unknown until and then the unexpected smile of the child now announced discreet.
Around the track that he came became quiet, as was the soft snow that covered everything that he had passed and now moved. A low cry was shown to be discreet, perhaps heard only by those trained ears to hear the experience of those who cry in silence. Appeared at the window he realized that only by listening to the little light that insisted on leaving the windows to see. Two faces lined an empty table where a vase of flowers worth taking, the place where the meal is not occupied, leaving room for two pairs of hands that landed solidly on the towel as white as snow. The garments were plain dumb and patches shouted with pride care they received despite the use, now less intense activity, probably due to lack of work that plagued those who were wearing. Hasty, the man pulled a package of lined pockets where the next meal that kept telling her how the body and now refused. Joined him a few coins he had received as a free mason and beggar and left on the window ledge where he had beaten at the time of leaving.
continued to walk now turning to a figure that chance did you find it, huddled in a doorstep, where the heat is let out sneak under the door of a house also imposing heavy and warm, enhancing the heat pieces of card the cost ensured gently, like being wrapped the most fragile of beings. With careful not to wake the sleeping man almost unconscious on the cold, took out her old clothes and shoes that ruptured quickly and furtively exchanged for his, as if in exchange gain the best of treasures.
returned to the path he had taken before, leaning on a stick made of acacia wood, chasing the steps that were lighter now as the lighting of Christmas was leaning on the brilliance that took the eyes and the smile of the lips were silent and quiet at night open hands calmed the wind and cold. He looked at himself, happy with the open arms of contentment that the scanty clothing that was now taking place instead of the red robes he had used as even on Christmas Eve. There was no sleigh reindeer that were transported. It was the happiness she felt while giving to others. That was what made him feel the real Father Christmas in gestures and signs that only he understood.
Author: Sheikh
reproduced: Respestável Seller under the auspices of the Grand Orient Lusitano - Portuguese Freemasonry - Scottish Rite,
http://wwww.msmacom.com.br http://msmacom.blogspot.com 
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