The Great Loss

December 25, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Memoriam, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Holidays, humanity, Loss, Memoriam, Micro-fiction, No More War, Tradition, Universality 35 Comments

“Did Great-Grandpa really fight in the Great War?”

“He did.”

“What made it great, Mama?”

She sighed. This place’s heaviness only settled thicker during the holidays. She’d come every year on Christmas as a child. Too infrequently since. The ocean’s breeze whipped hair into the boy’s eyes and she tucked a lock behind his ear. He so reminded her of herself.

“Grandma Rose said it was because the Heavens everywhere lit with the great number of souls and broken hearts. The Great Loss, she called it.”

“A lot of Christmas angels, Mama?”

“Perhaps so.”

“I think Great-Grandpa is one, though.”

Note: Dedicated to all who are missing loved ones during the holidays, to all who are no longer with us for they’d given their lives (or parts of their souls) for others, in search of peace, in hope of no more war or hate or greed. May we do better, as a species. Let there be true peace on Earth.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

(Thank you Sandra Cook for the evocative photo prompt!)

Oh, The Mistletoe

December 24, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Photography, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: blessings, Culture, Folklore, fpj-photo-challenge, History, Holidays, Mistletoe, Mythology, Peace, Photo Challenge, Photography, Poetry, Tradition 1 Comment

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

Oh, there’s the mistletoe,

The berries

Over green.

The holidays

In olden faiths

Remembered,

Veiled, still seen.

Oh, in the mistletoe,

The Druid,

Norse,

The Greek,

For strength of

Loins,

And sacrifice

For friendship, love

And peace.

Oh, in the mistletoe

A medicine

A kiss.

May it bring

Your heart

Only the best

Of all of

This.

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Holidays

No Longer Cold

December 23, 2019December 24, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Good stuff!, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Photography, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: A moment in time, City life, compassion, Decorations, Holidays, New York City, Ornaments, Photography, Poetry, Street Art, Tree, winter 18 Comments

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

It had stared

Though the window

At the clothed

Indoor tree

Wrapped in tinsel

And glory,

Gifts at its feet,

Stars on its crown.

And it shivered,

Naked,

In the cold.

All leaves long gone.

“This tree is naked,”

A child stopped,

Compared,

Bemoaned.

“It is too cold.”

Not anymore, Child,

Not anymore.

Note: I took this photo earlier today in New York City, as I walked past this brownstone’s holiday decorations. This post is dedicated to all who are outside, looking in. May you be seen. May you be clothed. May you be known. May you no longer be cold.

Also, for the new Monday Window challenge

And an extra tag for Frank’s Tuesday Photo Challenge of: Holidays

Walk The Line

December 23, 2019December 23, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: competition, Eggnog, Flash Fiction, Holidays, Just because, Just for fun, Kreative Kue, Mice, Micro-fiction, Photo prompt, Siblings, Silly 18 Comments

DSCF1300a

“He’s never going to make it,” Benji declared.

Shelly shrugged. “I think he can.”

Benji twitched in irritation. “Mark my words. He’s never gonna make it. Not after all the eggnog he’d snagged.”

Shelly sniffed. Eggnog? There was eggnog? He wanted some!

Tilly wriggled between them and squeezed herself onto the couch. “What’cha doing?”

“Nothing.” Benji huffed.

“Ignore Benji, Sis, he’s just being his grouchy self.” Shelly scooted over a bit to make room for their sibling, who was younger by whole two minutes and by that officially the baby. Well, till the next babies had arrived.

“What is he doing down there?” Tilly squeaked. “If Mama sees him on the floor in the middle of the living room he is toast!”

“He’s trying to walk the line to the other side,” Shelly explained. Toast? Why’d she have to mention toast? Now he wanted toast.

“He’s walking funny,” Tilly noted.

“Of course he is. He’s drunk.” Benji muttered. “Now hush.”

“Sorry, Benji,” Tilly demurred, but true to form could barely keep herself still for half a second. “His tail is droopy. It is all in the tail, you know. He can’t keep to the line if his back-end is all draggy. Hey, Giddy,” she called, her whiskers trembling in excitement, “you can do it! lift your tail! It’ll give you better balance! It’s my turn next!”

For Keith’s Kreative Kue #242