The eldest widow of the villiage, sat in the study on a cold,souless December night. The light that bounced thru the window seemed to desaturate the color of the boldly painted red walls and ancient oak bookshelves, that held her memories of Decembers past. One large book sat at her feet, as she studied the faded and worn photographs, as she read the words, she wept. Not tears of grief or tears of sorrow, but tears of gratfication. Though her life was now torn and jaded on that dark December night , had her family long passed her by, she wept for the life she once had on that summer day.
