Christmas Morning

It is Christmas morning. I arose early to go to town and fetch a cake, but first I was able to laze in the sitting room while it was still pre-dawn and mostly dark. The Christmas tree planted into a coffee cup for a base stood in the middle of the coffee table adorned with loosely wrapped gifts. The sacred stillness of Christmas morning is the same anywhere. Peace becomes me. The girls wake slowly, tired from their evening celebrations, and are less festive doing their morning chores. More women rescued from Libya come. Trafficking and rescue does not stop for holidays.