Mrs. Santa settled in a comfy tea chair.
Arranged her red dress and tidied her hair.
“Tell Mrs. Santa what you want to receive.
I will make sure Santa knows to put it on the sleigh before he leaves.”
As a person who has worked with the Foster Care system, this storyline grabs me by the throat. I found myself choking up as I read about the sorting of children, like socks, at Kringletown. Ryder didn’t deserve that. No child does.
The characters were beautifully written, and had you feeling for them as if they were your friends/family. The harsh environment of Avocado punctuated every life choice that Scrooge made. Again totally out of left field, and wonderful.
“Millie, I do believe this window is going to win the Tutty’s Port Halloween Window Fest award for ‘Best Window.’ We’ll hang the blue ribbon in the front window for all to see,” she said triumphantly.
We don’t remember light. We remember
the dark. The cruelties; the misgivings.
We remember winter and fistfuls
of ice, like cold salt tossed in a face
with contempt, a form of shunning, bitter
the gesture; the censure of wind and snow.