Saturday, December 24, 2016

The Tree With The Bump

by Scott C. Forrest-Allen

A young boy and his father went shopping for a Holiday Tree for their apartment.
There were many beautiful trees in the lot.
His father noticed an odd-looking tree that had a curious bump in the middle of its trunk. When he asked him what he thought of this tree, the boy said, "There's a big bump in the middle of it. It looks like the letter 'D.' I don't like it. Can't we get one of the nicer trees?"
When his father explained that this was the only tree he could afford, the boy paused and said "okay."
When he went to purchase the tree, the father was told by the salesman he would take an additional five dollars off the price because of the imperfection. 
"Did you hear that?" the father asked his son in delight. "With this extra money, we can buy some hot cocoa and cookies for us to enjoy while we decorate the tree!"
"That sounds nice," replied the boy, still sad they couldn't afford a nicer, more perfect tree.
All during the decorating, the boy was quiet but enjoyed the cocoa and cookies. His father played his son's favorite music on their CD player.
When they finished, his father asked the boy what he thought of the tree.
"I think it looks nice."
"Thank you, and thank you for your understanding. Your mother would have been proud. Tell you what; I'm going to make some more cocoa, and when I come back, we can each open one present!"
"That sounds nice."
Once his father left the room and was out of hearing distance, the boy sat on the floor in front of the tree and stared at the big bump that looked like the letter "D."
"I hate you, Tree," he began, "because you are so ugly, and you are going to ruin our Holiday. I wish we had bought one of the better trees!"
Just then, a glass ball fell from the tree and rolled towards the boy.
"Look at that. You can't even hold up our ornaments!"
The boy needed both hands to pick up the glass ball, which he did not remember putting on the tree. A blizzard of snow was happening inside. When it cleared, he saw a vision of himself and his father, and they were at the tree lot. 
The boy gazed in wonder.
He could see his father purchasing a perfect tree at the lot. He also saw his father give the salesman everything in his wallet. The boy inside the ball could not see his father's expression because he was too busy jumping up and down. The boy holding the ball, however, could see his father's face.
Another blizzard of snow took over the glass ball. Once it cleared, he saw another image. It was of the tree with the bump. It was sitting all alone and lonely in the lot in the darkness. He saw the salesman enter.
"What am I gonna do with ya?" the salesman barked. "Heck, I couldn't even give you away, you sorry pile of twigs. Guess I'll just have to throw you away. I'll be right back."
After the man left, the boy witnessed something falling from the branches of the tree in the ball. At first it looked like snow. The boy looked more closely. He saw it wasn't snow at all, but tears falling from the tree's branches. The tree was crying because no one wanted it.
The boy looked up the tree in front of him. He stared at its bump.
The boy felt heavy tears in his own eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Tree," he whispered,"for all of the terrible things I thought and said about you." He paused and added, "Thank you for making our Holiday special."
"Who are you talking to?" they boy's father said as he entered the room with two mugs of cocoa. 
"Thank you for the tree, Dad. I love it."
His dad smiled and sat next to his son.
"I'm sorry I already opened one of the presents already."
"That's okay. Which one?"
"The Magic Snow Globe."
"What Magic Snow Globe?"
"The one in my hands --" but when he looked down he realized his hands were empty. "Oh, I must have dropped it. I'll look for it."
He looked everywhere, but he could not find the glass ball.
What he did find, however, were beautifully-wrapped presents for him from his dad placed under the tree while they were decorating it.
He had not noticed them before.
Dad handed his son his cocoa,
and they both clicked their mugs in a toast.
The lights on their tree twinkled softly
as the snow outside fell gently from the sky.
*
*
Whatever Holiday you celebrate, please enjoy!
Thank you,
Scott

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

TOP TEN OF 2016!

Let The Countdown begin!

10. A CHRISTMAS CAROL
(Salem Trolley & The Griffen Theatre)
What a fun and festive, creative and clever way to bring this Charles Dickens classic to life! Each stave of the story is a stop along the streets of Salem MA as Scrooge and spectators meet the specters and stories in this imaginative and interactive treat! 


9. A GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE TO LOVE AND MURDER
(Broadway Across America)
A hilarious and witty romp well-deserving of the Best Tony it has received. One actor plays all the victims while another actor does them in one-by-one as he attempts to gain what he believes is his rightful place in the family!


8. THE DIXIE SWIM CLUB
(The Pittsfield Players)

Stevie Nicks sings "Lightning strikes; maybe once, maybe twice," and lighting has struck again! The majority of the original cast reunites - not unlike the charming, delightful characters they play. Swim team friends since high school, these women meet at the same cottage by the ocean to discuss their lives and how they have changed. The friends go from toasting their fellow Speedo-clad male swimmers to honoring their beloved coach, making this one piece of theatre that deserves several relays.


7. WEST SIDE STORY
(North Shore Music Theatre)

The creative team of Bob Richard and Diane Laurenson transport their critically-acclaimed Theatre By The Sea production for an in-the-round experience that is as electrifying as it is relevant (unfortunately). The direction does not hide the hatred shared by the rival gangs, and the jaw-dropping choreography propels the gritty story and deep-rooted heartbreak they also share.


6. MURDER FOR TWO
(The Lyric Stage Company)

Jared Troilo is making a name for himself in the Boston scene, and here he shines as Marcus Moscowicz dealing with a murder investigation. But this isn't your average crime scene. All of the suspects are being played brilliantly by Kirsten Salpini. Originally performed by two male actors, the male/female combo creates another level of sex appeal in this hilarious whodunnit that fortunately does not rely on becoming a one-joke wonder; it has a legitimate book and clever score, creating an evening of non-stop laughter. Which reminds me --


5. SILENCE! THE MUSICAL
(Arts After Hours)

I am as pleasantly surprised as you! I say this because on paper this does not look like my thing, but on stage it is one of the most uproarious, laughter-generating shows I've enjoyed in a long, long time. A smart and witty parody of the film Silence Of The Lambs, the naughty and so-wrong-they're right lyrics are matched by Lisa McDonough's spot-on Jodi impersonation, which just gets funnier as the evening progresses. The lucky audiences are anything but silent!


4. SPEECH AND DEBATE
(Bad Habit Productions)

Before Stephen Karam won his Tony for The Humans, he was already expressing his thoughts about people and relationships and the dark places they go with this earlier work. The polished, professional staging by director Rebecca Bradshaw features some of Boston's finest talents with the likes of Katie Elinoff, Ross Magnant, and Evan Vihlen portraying teenagers finding their places in the world and with each other. Veronica Anastasia Wiseman rounds out the stellar cast as both teacher and reporter. This is my first production with this theatre, but certainly not my last.


3. ART
(Arts After Hours)

Yasmina Reza's sharp-tongued Tony Winner gets an incredible re-staging here thanks to Fran Weinberg's thoughtful, intelligent direction. Anchored by powerful performances by Thomas Grenon, Anthony Mullin, and Jason Myatt, their tumultuous relationship plays out like a chess game with each "friend" vying to be king of the conversation. All this over an expensive piece of art. Who knew a blank canvas could say so much?


2. THE SCOTTSBORO BOYS
(SpeakEasy Stage Company)

SpeakEasy is hardly a stranger to my countdown, and there is a reason for that. They do not know how to do bad productions.

Such is the case here. Director Paul Daigneault tackles this subject matter and makes it entertaining while at the same time does not shy away from the horrific truths. There is much discomfort in watching a beautiful tap number but realizing it's about the electric chair. This is the harsh irony that cements brilliant composers John Kander & Fred Ebb into Broadway History. I wish I could say that the attitudes expressed in this piece are dated, but at least this production honors these fine Scottsboro Gentlemen, and it's "never too late."


1. THE LARAMIE PROJECT
(Theatre Company of Saugus)

Every so often there is a production that is more of an experience than anything else.

Jason Hair-Wynn's mature, sensitive direction brings forward the horrific details surrounding the incident of Matthew Shepard. Told through monologues and vignettes by this unbelievably talented cast, the audience witnesses everything - the good, the bad, and everything in between. It is not an easy show to witness but necessary. The set design made of broken fences and various shoes speaks volumes.

One could argue that we have made some progress,
but we are constantly reminded of the long road ahead.

But we can walk.

Together.


Thank you, Matthew.














Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Stevie Nicks and her Golden Dreams



Stevie Nicks is out on the road supporting an album that she released a couple of years ago, but Stevie has never really followed the rules.

And her fans love her for it.

This is evident by the fact she is performing - and thoroughly enjoying - songs that she has either never performed live or hasn't performed in a long, long time.

And the results are wonderful.

The pure joy she is experiencing by doing exactly what she wants - advice she offered to her attentive crowd at the TD Garden - is infectious.

She is at a point in her life when she can truly relax and enjoy herself while still pursuing her dreams - more advice she provided for us.

She is known for being a singer/songwriter, but she is a storyteller primarily and a true artist at the top of her craft. 

I won't give away the set list, but suffice it to say she initially avoids the Hit Parade, and it is so refreshing to experience these songs live. And only Stevie can get away with it as only Stevie can. Her passion for these songs is clear because they are not cookie-cutter love songs, but personal tales of heartbreak and lessons learned. She has been through a lot and is comfortable sharing it with us.

Stevie is also too wise to avoid the "big" songs, so there is a healthy dose of songs that propelled her into stardom in the first place, and they are brought to brilliant life here. 

There are many recurring themes to her stories - dreams, rain, angels, and gold, just to name a few. These are thoughts and images with which fans resonate, and we learn a lot when when we read between her lines.

stevienicksofficial.com






Monday, October 31, 2016

"The Shopper" the second in a Series by Paul McCarthy & Scott Forrest-Allen


(READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.)

“The Shopper”
by
Paul McCarthy & Scott C. Forrest-Allen

It’s that time of the year again, I thought to myself.
Christmas time…and I’m sick of hearing the same music over and over again
and again.  My mom starts playing Christmas music in October!  It’s driving me nuts: listening to the same songs, by the same people, in the morning on the way to school; back home after school. All because I don’t have a license.  And the worst song of all –
“It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” No, it isn’t! YUCK!
       
            Well, it’s the night before Christmas Eve, and today my mom told me she would drive me to

the mall tonight so I can go Christmas shopping with her.  My CD player broke yesterday (I think it

was that brat that my sister hangs around with; it wouldn’t be the first thing of mine that that little

demon broke).  

           I really hope I can get my hands on something to drown out that God-awful Christmas music

that I’m tormented with every year.  I hope the mall won’t be too crazy, I heard that an elderly woman

was taken to the hospital last year as a result of the Christmas Eve chaos. 

        “Peace on Earth, and good will toward men” my ass.  It’s the price to pay to spread the

“Christmas cheer” I suppose. I hope getting myself my new CD player will make me feel better.
“Stop it!” I yelled at Patty in the back seat.
“If you two don’t stop it…” my mother began. ” May, set a good example for your younger sister.”
Patty couldn’t get the stupid grin off her face. If she only knew what I was thinking…        
The mall was so much more crowded than I had expected; as if everyone had just looked at their calendars that morning and realized what day it was.
         
            “Now girls,” started my mother. Oh, how I hated it when she called me a “girl.”

            “Yes, mother dear,” I replied.

            “You watch your tone, young lady.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Patty smirking.

            “I need to do some errands. I’ll meet you both back here in one hour.”

            “But, mom…” I pleaded.

            “And make sure your cell phone is on – just in case,” continued my mother, ignoring me.

“Now, you girls have fun! One hour!”

            I checked my digital watch. It was 6:42PM. Okay. 8PM was close enough to one hour from then.

           And off she went into the sea of faceless strangers. It was as if a wave had just carried her in

its crest.

            “I have to go the baffroom,” announced Patty. Great. Her nagging was starting already.

            “Fine.” The sooner we go “the baffroom,” the sooner we can go shopping for my new CD player. 
That’s when we started our quest. Fighting our way upstream against the stream of rude and oblivious shoppers, we managed to make our way to the ladies’ room located in the center of the mall not too far from the food court.
All I wanted to do was to splash my face and wipe it with a paper towel. Damn those stupid paper towels! Might as well dry your face with sandpaper.
After drying my face, I went outside the bathroom door to wait for Patty. The sea of shoppers continued to swell, and I could feel myself gasping for air. I checked my watch. 7:14PM. Damn! Almost half an hour had already gone by, and we hadn’t even gone anywhere near the CD store! “Patty” I called out. Then I entered the ladies room.
“Patty! Hurry up! We have to get going!”
Silence.
Oh, where is she? I thought. Come on! Hurry up!
This is no time for her stupid pranks.
Taking a quick survey of the stalls, I found no feet anywhere.
My stomach dropped.
My insides turned ice-cold.
Something was wrong. I felt it right away.
“Patricia!” I demanded. “If this is your idea of a joke, I’m not laughing!”
Where is she?
“Come on! Come out! Patricia?”
Silence.
”Patricia!”
Silence.
“Patty? Come on, Patty! It’s me, May!”
One by one, I opened each of the stall doors.
One by one, each one was empty.
            “Patty!”

            “PATTY!!”

            She must have slipped by when I wasn’t paying attention. I should’ve stayed in the ladies’

room with her the whole time.
 
             Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Breathe. You’ll find her, I told myself.

            This is just one of her tricks again. Her stupid friend taught her too well. She’ll be just outside

the door. Yes. That’s it. Just outside the door.

              I ran to the door. “Patty! Patty!” I yelled.

             Patty was nowhere to be found. The sea of people turned into an ocean. My mouth went dry. 

I could feel my heartbeat. The sound of my heart beating drowned out whatever sounds the ocean of 

strangers were creating.

             Look around. 

            Slowly. 

            Make your way around. She’s here. She’s got to be here. Somewhere!

            I began to make my through the unforgiving crowd. All of those people were in their own

little worlds, and no one else mattered to them but themselves. I searched in every direction - the best

I could - mouth drying and heart beating.

            A wave of panic moved through me.

            The Security Desk. I need to go to the Security Desk. I need to report her missing. No. She’s   

not missing. She’s just not here. May, you dumb ass, that’s what “missing” means!! Don’t panic. 

             Please. Don’t panic. She’s here. She’s here somewhere.

            “It’s the most wonderful time of the year…” sang the overhead speaker system.

            The hell it is! Of all songs…

            “With the kids jingle belling…” I heard as I managed my way through the endless waves of 

people.

             “Well, I never!” some woman spat in my direction.

              Well, maybe you should, Sweetheart!  I thought.

             “What a rude little girl!” added another.

             “It’s the most wonderful time…” repeated the singer.

             “Oh, shut up!” I yelled to the singer, as if he could hear me.

             “What did you say?” demanded a man facing me. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that, little 

girl!”

              I had no time for this!

              “And don’t you dare run away from me!”

             “There’ll be parties for hosting…”

              Arriving at the Security Desk, I felt dizzy.

             “Please, sir! You have to help me!” I gasped to the security guard who took notes as I 

explained my situation. He assured me that they would do everything they could to find my sister.

              The overhead singer chimed with glee: “There’ll be scary ghost stories…”  One of those 

ghost stores will be about Patty! May, stop thinking like that. May, get a hold of yourself.  I turned 

and faced the tides of faces heading in every direction.

              No one knew what I was going through.

              And no one cared.

              Mom! I knew I had to call mom and warn her. I reached for my cell phone but couldn’t find 

it anywhere. I must have dropped it in my search for Patty.

             Or someone stole it.

             “It’s the most wonderful time…of…the…year!” I could picture the singer’s smiling face 

surrounding by other smiling faces. Mine was not one of those smiling faces.

              I decided to go back to the bathroom to look.  Maybe she’s been there this whole time. 

              Please, oh, please, oh, please, oh please, oh please!

              I eventually made it back. “Patty! Are you here? It’s May! If you’ve been hiding, it’s all…”

             “May! Is that you?” It was Patty’s voice!

             “YES!” I exhaled.

             That was when the lights went out.

             “Patty! Patty! Where are you?”

             Silence.

             The darkness.

             It was so dark.

             And cold. I could feel the temperature drop. Had there been any light in the bathroom, I 

probably could’ve seen my breath.

              All I could hear was my heartbeat again. It pounded and echoed between my ears. I wanted 

to tell it to shut up so I could listen for my sister. Of all times for there to be a power outage. And 

where the hell were the emergency lights? And where was Security?

               I felt hands rest on either of my shoulders.

               I gasped in response. I wanted to ask if that were Patty, but my mouth was too dry to form 

any words. I felt my breath quicken. This was too tall for Patty. I wanted to ask who the hell they 

were and what did they do with my sister?
              
               I felt chills take over my body as I started to make out The Figure in front of me. Close. So 

close to me. With both of their hands on both of my shoulders. The gentleness of the hands frightened 

me.

               The Figure slowly guided me along the bathroom. That’s it, I told myself. It’s some nice 

person who found Patty. They are going to bring me to her. But where is she? I tried to gasp, but no

air came out.

               The hands reached up and started to caress my hair. They were gentle hands, but shivers 

went down my spine. I felt the rest of my body turn ice cold.

               Oh, why the hell can’t I say anything? Why is it so damn cold?

              “May! Is that you?” I heard Patty cry out to me. “Come and get me! I’m right here!”

               As I started to move, the hands returned to my shoulders and shoved me into the wall. I felt 

the cold, hard concrete slam against my back, and I screamed. One of the hands covered my mouth, 

squeezing my cheeks until they hurt. I winced and wanted to cry. Don’t cry. This is no time to cry. It’s 

time to be strong. It’s time to be strong for Patty. It’s time to strong for you.
            
                Did anyone hear me scream??

                That was when I heard it.

                I heard the sound of a click.

                Is it the sound of the heat and the lights coming back on?

                No.

                Nothing came back on.

               But, I did hear the sound of something. It sounded like the sound of a machine. Something 

whirring. What the hell was that?

                I winced again in pain from the hand on my cheeks as I heard…

               A chainsaw?

               No, not a chainsaw, but some sort of machine. Something with a high-pitched buzzing or 

whirring sound.

              OH, MY GOD! PATTY!

              I heard the sound of the machine. It sounded like it was cutting through something. I heard 

cracking. I heard something splitting. Were they cutting through the stalls?

              What were they cutting through?

I smelled something. Some foul, horrid smell.
            
              And cracking. I heard the sound of something cracking as it was being cut, no, severed, no, 

             MAY, SHUT UP!!

             OH, MY GOD! PATTY! PATTY! WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT ARE THEY DOING TO 

YOU? SOMEONE PLEASE HELP US!!

             That’s when I heard the sound of a small child screaming.

             The sound of the screaming was high-pitched.

             The sound of the screaming blended with the sound of the machine.

             The sound of the screaming and the sound of the machine became one.

             The sound of the screaming and the sound of the machine echoed and pierced my ears like 

nothing I had ever heard before.

              I finally found the strength in me to yell.

              I finally found the strength in me to yell as long and as loud as I could, forcing the hand to

move away from my face.

              The sounds of the buzzing machine and the screaming child and my own screaming became one.


I found myself lying on the floor. I opened my eyes. The lights -- although I welcomed them -- were 

blinding.

I must have passed out.

For how long?

My heart was still racing, and my breathing was still crazy as I found myself lying on the bathroom 

floor staring at the cracks in the ceiling.

I was alone.

What the hell just happened? Who was here? Where’s Patty?

And where the hell IS everyone? No one heard me scream? No one heard that…that sound?

Afraid of what I might find, I still managed to quickly turn over onto my stomach to see what and 

who was there.

I took in a deep breath.

Nothing.

No one.

Not a trace of anything.

Not a trace of anyone.

What’s worse than someone attacking you in the darkness?

Not knowing where they are later when the lights come on.

I looked at my watch. It was almost midnight.

Where the hell IS my mother? Where IS everyone?

I slowly got up and left the restroom.

I looked out into the mall…

…only to find no one and nothing there.

I was sick to my stomach.

This will be over soon, and I’ll forget all about it.

What had been endless waves of nameless strangers was now a vast wasteland.

It was so dark.

And so cold.

With only the emergency lights on, I could see my breath in the darkness.

Remembering where I was, I decided to go to the food court, find a pay phone to call my mother. Or 

the police. Or anyone. Anyone who cared. Do they still have pay phones?

I felt and heard breathing and footsteps along my way to the food court. I decided to step as lightly as 

I could so “they” could not find me.

But, where did they go?

And what did they do with Patty?

Don’t cry, May. Don’t cry. There is a simple and logical explanation to all of this.

But what?

What?

And what did I do to deserve this? All I wanted to do was to treat myself to a new CD player!

And what did Patty do to deserve this? Where IS she?

I made my way to the food court and found the two pay phones near the taco stand. 

Tacos sounded so good right about then. Until I thought of the ground meat. The meat made me think

of the sound I heard earlier, and… the sound of someone grounding Patty’s flesh and bones…

STOP IT, MAY!!

STOP DOING THIS TO YOURSELF!!

I picked up one of the phones, seeing my breath as I did. I dialed.

Nothing.

No dial tone.

No ringing.

No nothing.

Of course.

I tried the other phone.

Same thing.

I wanted to cry. Don’t cry, May. That won’t make things better. It’ll make things worse.

Go to the front of the mall, I told myself. Someone is bound to see me.

And someone is bound to see me along the way, I told myself.

I looked around…

…no one and nothing was there.

I decided to make a break for it. I thought if they catch me, then so be it. I’ll put up a fight and go 

down in history as one strong bitch.

Tiptoeing through the mall, I heard and felt my heartbeat throb between my ears again. Although I 

stepped as quietly as I could, I could hear every step echo and bounce off every wall around me.

In every shadow I saw someone, or something. Nope just another shadow. Damn! It’s dark in here.

And cold. So cold. I could see my breath every inch of the way, though I was careful not to breathe 

too much so as not to let them find me.


I eventually made it to the front door. Which was locked. Of course. How stupid. What if someone

were caught in here? How are they supposed to get out?

Oh, wait.

I’M STUCK HERE, AND I’M TRYING TO GET OUT!

That’s when I saw my mother coming to the door. After exhaling a sigh of relief, I noticed something 

else.

Patty was with her!

But how?

I was too exhausted to feel anger, relief, sadness, and guilt, but I felt all of them anyway.

She was with the security guard I had met earlier. He let her in. I flung myself into my mother’s arms.

“I’m sorry, mom!” I cried, my mouth and lips cracking from being so dry. “I’m so sorry I didn’t pay 

closer attention to Patty!”

“It’s alright, May” my mother began to soothe me. “Patty couldn’t find you in the mall of people, so 

she panicked and ran home.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” whimpered Patty.

I didn’t know whether to hug my little sister or hit her, so I did neither.

All of us appeared too tired to do anything.


It was a long and silent drive home. I sat in the front next to my mother who had a vacant stare.

Mom should be happy, so why the distant look? She is going to punish me. She is going to ground me

to not taking better care of my sister whom I didn’t want to come with me in the first place.

I’m alright, I told myself. Patty’s ok. And some day, we’ll laugh over all of this. That crazy night. It’ll 

be such a great story for us to tell everyone. Ha-ha. Look at me. I’m laughing already.

I wanted to say so much to my mother, but I couldn’t find any words. I had already explained to the 

security guard what happened. The sounds I heard. He promised me I must have been sleeping or 

dreaming or unconcious or it was my imagination. Why do adults always tell kids that it’s just our 

imagination?

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I fell down on the floor and dreamt that whole horrible thing.

Wow! We’re home already?


By the time I got to bed, it was close to 2:00 AM.  My mother kissed me goodnight and said that

everything would be alright. We’ll get up in the mornign and have a wonderful Holiday.

“Good night,” was all I could manage. She left the room.

I cried myself to sleep.

In spite of it all, or maybe because of it all, I began to drift off into sleep. 

Then, just as I closed my eyes…

A Voice breathed a melodious tune into my ear:

He knows…when you are sleeping…

I cringed, “I’m dreaming.  Nobody is in the room.”

He knows…when you’re awake…

It’s a dream…” I dragged the blankets over my mouth and nose, “why can’t I just open my eyes to 

prove it to myself that there’s no one here?  I really hate this dream!”

He knows…if you’ve been bad or good…

STOP!” I screamed.

All I could hear was the sound of my own pulsating breath.  A single tear flowed from my eye into

my mouth.  The taste was bitter.

I WAS dreaming…this WAS a dream!

I frantically looked around; tears blurred my vision but it was obvious…

…there was no one and nothing there.

May…get a grip -  there isn’t anyone here, you’re just imagining—

“May! Are you okay?” my parents shouted in unison from their room.

“I’m okay! Just a dream!”

That’s it.

It was all just a dream.

                     *          *          *          *          *

The next morning around 7:00 AM, I woke to bright sunshine beaming through the windows, making

the snow on the ground look brand new thought it snowed several days before.

An envelope on my nightstand caught my attention. I opened the envelope to find a beautifully

decorated card wishing me a Happy Holiday.

I realized it was one of those musical cards because as soon as I opened it, it sang

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year…..”




Copyright 2007 Paul McCarthy & Scott C. Forrest-Allen