“A frozen tear”



I just enjoyed reading this poem by William Thomas, it is deep and touches the core of the soul. Enjoy and hope you think in this season of love of those who spend it in solitude.

A Frozen Tear

By William Thomas©

Winter in Kodiak, a time of little light.
The snow brightens the ground and the stars light up the night.
A cluster of Spruce sag deep, a drift in front of my car.
My heart weighs heavy. Thoughts of relatives afar.
A blustery wind blows, north then south.
A cold winter thirst, warm java for my mouth.
A homeless man sleeps, all bundled in clothes.
His heart deep with thoughts of past Christmas woes.
A handshake, a smile, a sip of my coffee.
A friend in waiting, I became to he.
Some food from the shelter, a warm place to rest.
His life for the moment, felt happy and blessed.
He told me the stories of days long ago.
My full attention, he required, to him I happily bestowed.
A veteran of the war, a father of four.
A long distance call seemed to matter no more.
The blanket of stars and the snow under his feet,
only brought back memories of a scar so deep.
A story from my life, I understood his loss.
To spend Christmas without family, there’s no greater cost.
One more handshake. A “man-hug” goodbye.
His face looked of worry, wondered if I would be back tonight.
A job in Kodiak sometimes is so rare.
But I am happy to tell you, where I work is here.
A smile, a thought, the lending of an ear.
A thousand times more helpful than a frozen tear.


Stories, one of fun and the other of love

Short Funny Christmas Story 

Just before Christmas, an honest politician, a generous lawyer and Santa Claus got into the lift (elevator) at the Ritz Hotel in London. As the lift travelled from the 5th floor down to the ground level, one-by-one they noticed a £50 note lying on the lift’s floor.

Which one picked up the £50 note, and handed it in at reception?

Santa of course, the other two don’t actually exist!

Christmas is for love

Author unknown

Christmas is for love. It is for joy, for giving and sharing, for laughter, for reuniting with family and friends, for tinsel and brightly decorated packages. But mostly, Christmas is for love. I had not believed this until a small elf-like student with wide-eyed innocent eyes and soft rosy cheeks gave me a wondrous gift one Christmas.

Mark was an 11 year old orphan who lived with his aunt, a bitter middle aged woman greatly annoyed with the burden of caring for her dead sister’s son. She never failed to remind young Mark, if it hadn’t been for her generosity, he would be a vagrant, homeless waif. Still, with all the scolding and chilliness at home, he was a sweet and gentle child.

I had not noticed Mark particularly until he began staying after class each day (at the risk of arousing his aunt’s anger, I later found) to help me straighten up the room. We did this quietly and comfortably, not speaking much, but enjoying the solitude of that hour of the day. When we did talk, Mark spoke mostly of his mother. Though he was quite small when she died, he remembered a kind, gentle, loving woman, who always spent much time with him.

As Christmas drew near however, Mark failed to stay after school each day. I looked forward to his coming, and when the days passed and he continued to scamper hurriedly from the room after class, I stopped him one afternoon and asked why he no longer helped me in the room. I told him how I had missed him, and his large gray eyes lit up eagerly as he replied, “Did you really miss me?”

I explained how he had been my best helper. “I was making you a surprise,” he whispered confidentially. “It’s for Christmas.” With that, he became embarrassed and dashed from the room. He didn’t stay after school any more after that.

Finally came the last school day before Christmas. Mark crept slowly into the room late that afternoon with his hands concealing something behind his back. “I have your present,” he said timidly when I looked up. “I hope you like it.” He held out his hands, and there lying in his small palms was a tiny wooden box.

“Its beautiful, Mark. Is there something in it?” I asked opening the top to look inside. ”

“Oh you can’t see what’s in it,” He replied, “and you can’t touch it, or taste it or feel it, but mother always said it makes you feel good all the time, warm on cold nights, and safe when you’re all alone.”

I gazed into the empty box. “What is it Mark,” I asked gently, “that will make me feel so good?” “It’s love,” he whispered softly, “and mother always said it’s best when you give it away.” And he turned and quietly left the room.

So now I keep a small box crudely made of scraps of wood on the piano in my living room and only smile as inquiring friends raise quizzical eyebrows when I explain to them that there is love in it.

Yes, Christmas is for gaiety, mirth and song, for good and wondrous gifts. But mostly, Christmas is for love.

The “W” in Christmas                                                      
Last December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience.   I had cut back on nonessential obligations – extensive card writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending. Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas.       
My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting season for a six year old. For weeks, he’d been memorizing songs for his school’s “Winter Pageant.”  I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d be working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher.  She assured me there’d be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation.  All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then.  Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise. 
So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early,  found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the room, I saw  several other parents quietly scampering to their seats. As I waited, students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform their song. Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the holiday as “Christmas,” I didn’t expect anything other than fun, commercial    entertainment – songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and good cheer.

So, when my son’s class rose to sing, “Christmas Love,” I was slightly taken aback by its bold title. Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads.  Those in the front row- center stage – held up large letters, one by one, to spell out the title of the song. As the class would sing “C is for Christmas,” a child would hold up the  letter C. Then, “H is for Happy,” and on and on, until each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message, “Christmas Love.” 

The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her; a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter “M” upside down –  totally unaware her letter “M” appeared as a “W”.  The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one’s mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood tall, proudly holding her “W”.  Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it together.  A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen. In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our  festivities. For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear: 

C H R I S T   W A S   L O V E”  
And, I believe, He still is.

“The wrapping paper”

This story I love for its inspiration and love. Enjoy!

THE GOLD WRAPPING PAPER – An Inspiring Christmas Story

Once upon a time, a man punished his five-year-old daughter for using up the family’s only roll of expensive gold wrapping paper before Christmas.

Money was tight, so he became even more upset when on Christmas Eve, he saw that the child had used the expensive gold paper to decorate a large shoebox she had put under the Christmas tree.

Nevertheless, the next morning the little girl, filled with excitement, brought the gift box to her father and said, “This is for you, Daddy!”

As he opened the box, the father was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, now regretting how he had punished her.

But when he opened the shoebox, he found it was empty and again his anger flared. “Don’t you know, young lady,” he said harshly, “when you give someone a present there’s supposed to be something inside the package!”

The little girl looked up at him with sad tears rolling from her eyes and whispered: “Daddy, it’s not empty. I blew kisses into it until it was all full.”

The father was crushed. He fell on his knees and put his arms around his precious little girl. He begged her to forgive him for his unnecessary anger.

An accident took the life of the child only a short time later. It is told that the father kept this little gold box by his bed for all the years of his life. Whenever he was discouraged or faced difficult problems, he would open the box, take out an imaginary kiss, and remember the love of this beautiful child who had put it there.

In a very real sense, each of us as human beings have been given an invisible golden box filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, family, friends and God.

There is no more precious possession anyone could hold

Marta Ghiglioni “Campanitas Navideñas”

“Campanitas Navideñas”

Repica la campana,
repica sin cesar
su música divina
nos llama a festejar.
¡Llegó la Navidad!
Fiesta de alegría
de amor y de paz
¡Hay que celebrar!
La campana nos llama…
La fiesta va a empezar,
y al compás del din don dan
a todos les deseamos
¡Feliz Navidad!
¡Feliz Navidad!

~Marta Ghiglioni ©

Marta Ghiglioni es una adaptadora de publicaciones y autora de libros de niños y de joven adultos. Algunos de sus creditos incluyen La lagartija que perdió la cola y Un león es un león.

Michael Muller “To celebrate Navidad”

“To Celebrate Navidad”

My senses enjoy every minute
sounds sights tastes and smells
of my busy home that tells
its time to celebrate Navidad.

The sound of musica latina
salsa clasica de Fania
es la favorita de mia
to celebrate Navidad.

My eyes take in the glow of the lights
scenes of Los Reyes on starry nights
setting the date within my sights
to celebrate Navidad.

The taste of sweet and foamy coquito
my favorite drink of the holiday season
gives me one more savory reason
to celebrate Navidad.

It is always a joy to smell
arroz con gandules delicioso
sopa de palmitas que sabroso
scents to celebrate Navidad.

May your Navidad be filled with love
as the snow falls soft as the call of a dove
take time out to thank God above
as you celebrate Navidad.

~Miguel Muller©


Miguel Muller is an instrumental music teacher living in Boonville, NY.  Born of a German/Irish Mother and Venezuelan Father, he enjoys both reading and writing poetry both in English and Spanish.  Last summer he hosted the first annual Poetry Night in The Adriondacks, in Old Forge, NY. As a husband and father of 3, he shares poetry with his family as often as he can.

email mmuller1@twcny.rr.com


Palabras Navideñas / Christmas Words

Favor visitar este link para el evento: https://alexandraroman.com/eventos/pal_navidad/ To visit the event, go to https://alexandraroman.com/eventos/pal_navidad/
English version below

Comunicado de Prensa

Contacto: Alexandra Román

Página web: Alexandra Román’s Mink Para publicación inmediata

Email: ars.mink@gmail.com 15 de November de 2010

Convocatoria: “Palabras Navideñas”

15-23 de diciembre de 2010

15 de noviembre de 2010: Con el motivo de celebrar la temporada navideña que se avecina, el blog Mink de la escritora Alexandra Román, llevará a cabo un evento titulado “Palabras Navideñas” a llevarse a cabo desde el 15-23 de diciembre de 2010 durante días laborales. Se invita a todos aquellos cuentistas y poetas que escriben tanto en inglés como en español interesados en participar a enviar sus escritos para ser considerados para este evento.

La convocatoria tiene como objetivo la divulgación las obras de los poetas y cuentistas que participarán del evento como celebración de una temporada llena de inspiración.

Las bases del evento las puedes encontrar en https://alexandraroman.com/eventos/pal_navidad/

Press Release

Contact: Alexandra Román

Web Page: Alexandra Román’s Mink

For immediate publication

Email: ars.mink@gmail.com November 15, 20/10

Convoke: “Words for Christmas”

December 15-23, 2010

November 15, 2010: With the reason to celebrate the upcoming holidays, the blog Mink and its author Alexandra Román will have the event “Christmas Words” from December 15-23, 2010, on working days. We invite all poets and story tellers that write both in English and Spanish interested in participating, to send their work to be considered for this event.

This convoke has the objective to divulge the work of the poets and story tellers that will participate in this event for the celebration of this joyous holiday full of inspiration.

The bases for the event may be found in https://alexandraroman.com/eventos/pal_navidad/

La bicicleta de María / Mary’s bike

English version below!


Blanca como las nubes del cielo, carga en su torso un letrero que sereno y tranquilo, como la brisa salada que le acaricia, declaran en negras palabras lo que es, será o lo que fue: “x siempre María”.

Más no se puede decir o asumir, sobre el estado de María. Su bicicleta estacionaria descansa en el áspero tronco de un cocotero. Simula una lápida que corona el lugar en el que quizás el último suspiro de María se dio, y allí bajo las sombras de las pencas donde el mar se alarga hasta besar el pálido azul del cielo, descansa un espíritu que no será olvidado. ¡María!

Tu nombre será por siempre lectura y de él nacerá el anhelo de conocerte, de tenerte en un momento y ser parte de tu historia. ¡Oh, María! Por siempre María.


Mary’s bicycle

White as the clouds carries in its torso a sign that serene and tranquil, like the salty breeze that caress it, declares in black letters what is, will be or was: “forever Mary”.

More cannot be said or assume, about Mary’s state. Her stationary bicycle rests on the rough trunk of a coconut tree. Simulates a headstone that crowns the place, where maybe Mary had her last breath, and under the shadows of a coconut tree where the sea elongates until it kisses the blue sky, rest a spirit that will never be forgotten. Mary!

Your name will always be reading and from it the yearning to know you will be born, to have you in a moment and to be part of your story. Oh, Mary! Forever Mary.

Thirty Creative Studios y su Aventura Novel


Hola a Todos,

     Por las próximas semanas estaremos comenzando una nueva aventura en ThirtyCreativeStudio. Dependiendo de la recepción de la misma continuaremos juntos o nos adaptaremos. Aunque en el pasado solo he presentado escritos de mi autoría en esta página y reseñas sobre otros autores, ya es hora de abrirle las puertas a escritores noveles. No todos tenemos el tiempo de escribir a diario para un blog personal o simplemente no deseamos hacerlo. Sea cual sea la razón, hay veces que deseamos comunicar una idea al mundo y no sabemos cómo. Por eso, todos los lunes, miércoles y viernes presentaremos escritos de otros autores.

     Los temas serán libres, pero no contendrán material explicito, ni ofensivo. Todos los trabajos serán originales, aunque pueden haber sido publicados con anterioridad. Esta será una ventana para aquellos que están comenzando y desean saber la recepción del público sobre sus escritos. También nos permitirá comenzar conversaciones y comentar sobre nuestros trabajos. La idea original de los blogs era abrir las puertas a discusiones y comentarios. Aunque ahora son meramente una fuente más de información; como cualquier enciclopedia.

     Los nuevos escritores necesitan que otros escritores les den una oportunidad. Como dirían en Puerto Rico, el que tiene padrino se bautiza. Así que, ThirtyCreativeStudio junto a Consultoría Literaria desean comenzar a bautizar nuevos escritores sin importar en que parte del mundo/universo se encuentren. Sin importar si este es su primer escrito o su más reciente obra literaria. Les queremos abrir la puerta de las posibilidades a todos nuestros lectores y escritores invitados.

     Adjunto se encuentra la Convocatoria para dicha actividad. En ella encontrarán toda la información necesaria para participar de Una Aventura Novel. Espero contar con su participación y apoyo para dar a conocer esta propuesta. De tener alguna otra pregunta o comentario, no duden en comunicarse conmigo a thirty.creativestudio@gmail.com.

Deborah Deck-Suárez