The Light


Every Christmas season, I feel empty from the missing member of our family picture. It is only a reminder of the times my mother missed the joys of the holiday. 

As I stretch my body, I released myself from the confines of comfort. My heart beats loudly with excitement. I am reminded of the day when I can finally feel the warm embrace of my protector after long years of waiting.

I quickly eat my breakfast as the image of her running to me comes into mind. I wonder if the perfume that she wears is still the same or if her trip went smoothly. My father snaps his finger in front of my face.

“Quit daydreaming. Your food is getting cold and we’re running late,” he says sternly as I catch a hint of a smile on his face.

The heat of the sun burns my skin as we arrive at the airport. There’s a sea of people walking towards their aimed destinations, some are standing with finely written names on a cardboard in the gates waiting for a response. My knees started to tremble after standing up for so long. 

Suddenly, from the crowd, a blurry figure emerges and shines toward us. I held back my tears as I approached her with open arms. My exhaustion quickly melted when her arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace. 

At last, Christmas is complete now that the light rekindles our table. RAMON CHRISTIAN G. PLACIDO

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