Mistletoe

Prologue: Starlike Snowflake

It was the 13th night of December when the gust of the wind flung into my face. I was wrapped up in my cozy home look with grey joggers, a grey top over a white lace bralette, a matching faux fur cardigan, and a blush beanie with a pompom for a comfortable winter layering look.

I stared out the window to watch how the flurry covered the streets with a blanket of bright and white snow. People bundled up with their loved ones and headed out for a stroll around the neighborhood to look at the street decorations. Kids played a snowball fight with their parents who felt like youths again, strangers caroled to spread some cheer, and a young woman hugged her lover from behind whilst getting a piggyback ride.

It didn't look chilly when they all braved the weather and filled the atmosphere with the warmth of love. But it had been a bitter cold here, for everyone had someone to hold, except for me.

The scent of the hot chocolate wafted through the cold breeze as it filled my mug topped with whipped cream, mini marshmallows, and a dusting of cocoa powder. It tasted like a chocolate bar and felt like a hug from within. Sipping on this hot cocoa beverage somehow gave me a comfort.

My glance darted around the living room which was lit up by the hanging string lights on the organic minimalist tree. It was adorned sparsely with khaki pine cones and matching baubles only. The famous phrase "less is more" crossed my mind. Sometimes, superfluous things could only make the tree look unattractive.

My downcast gaze went underneath the tree knowing that my eyes could no longer see the bunch of presents that were used to be placed there. I knew that it wasn't about what was under the tree that mattered, but who was gathered around it. But the thing was, I also had no one to be with, and no presents meant no presence.

I was like the little girl that Santa Claus had forgotten for there were too many names of true believers written on his book. I came to realize that mistakes could still occur in his perfect world for even when I was nice, his elves helpers were busy enough to notice my special wish, until they left me wondering as if it was just because I was on the naughty list.

Perhaps they prioritized some who were nicer, and that maybe I needed to do better. But nevertheless, the youth in me believed that it wasn't about how good people were, but how they were striving to be. So, I thought that maybe I became a lost letter swirling in the winter land of North Pole; an unopened mailbox that deserved to receive a gift waiting to be unwrapped at the perfect time, and an unreturned missing wish that could no longer have any chances to be retrieved. Since then, I never wrote a letter to him again.

Trying not to think of those sad times, I blinked away those memories and focused on the fragile snowflake outside, falling soundlessly like a star in the middle of the night; as if it was holding the secret to the universe, as if it was telling me something. Snowflakes never fell in the wrong place, so there must be something that the sky wanted to tell me.

I took a sip of my hot chocolate; my gaze was still on the snowflake. "It looks like a star..." I told to myself, until my body shivered in the cold as I rubbed my arms up and down to get rid of the goosebumps when I realized everything.

"Oh. . . the Star of Bethlehem!" I knew it! I let out a sudden loud intake of breath in surprise. It was the light that guided the lost along the journey until they found the miracle, and it was also the same light in the North Pole which could also have the same purpose. My lost letter to Santa Claus crossed my mind.

That was when I felt the desire to get rid of my organic minimalist tree and get up earlier tomorrow to buy a white snow tree. I'd be having a North Pole Tree with snow-dusted ornaments and polar bears, bringing back my world of winter wonderland. This time, I'd write again and put it underneath the tree, waiting for it to be sent to the North Pole by the power of the frosted tree, and believing that what was once lost could still be found. Maybe this time, I would be heard.

Would the starlike snowflake lead me to a miracle?