Hope

 

How to make Christmas special when you can’t eat dairy or sugar, when you are so hypersensitive 

you cannot have a Christmas tree, neither real or plastic, when you are so sound sensitive you can 

bear no noise, when bright light hurts you. 

When your eyes throb and burn. 

When you cannot bear movement or touch.

When every moment is pierced by agony.

When any hint of perfume on a parcel or card is a major threat.

When you can go nowhere. When it has been decades.

You hold onto hope. The hope of Christmas. The hope of a better moment.

The hope of love and an inner peace not of the world, of the joy of one pure moment of connection.

And you don’t let go.