The aroma of christmas

So I sit behind the glass window to watch the rain, to sip my hot coffee, to face an empty street on Christmas Day. And I like this setting, the rain even, the by passers who look for an open coffee shop. I am glad that I am not in New York yet, that I’m here with mom and dad and my sister and grandma. I like that it is raining and I’m drinking coffee and it’s not bitter anymore. I love the steam that rises from my cup, the foggy windows, and the cheery faces that smile. I love it Mom and you were so right to tell me that America is heaven. You were so right that it couldn’t get any better than this for us. I hated this place so much at first and I thought that you betrayed me by taking me away from a land I was just getting to know. I thought that I wouldn’t get anywhere here and I was wrong mom. I was wrong.
So I sit now, with her, and we enjoy the warmness of our cups and we watch the rain. And we both love it. I don’t have to say anything. I can just sit still and indulge the air, the aroma of Christmas, and be the happiest girl in the world. Mom, dad, thanks for bringing me here. I will write for you always, and I know that you will read and I hope that you see that it’s all because of you.

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