Christmas In a Strange Town

No snow; no ice, no frost, no Santa. No fun. I see the world’s smallest house ahead of me. This street is ugly, I am irritated. Where is the sun? We are going to decorate the tree tonight. Whoopee. Christmas in a strange town, without family or friends today. Thanks for nothing folks. I don’t know anyone in this place. Worse, my favorite grandma is six hundred and eighteen miles away. I slow down, dragging my backpack in a sloth like pace. I keep my head down, so people will know better than to greet me. I do not know anyone in California, and this place is strange and odd. I do not look up as people pass me, maybe two or three. Hey! Can you help me? It is a crackled voice, sounds like my Uncle Todd. I see a man struggling with a little tree, trying to get it into a door of wood. I am from the Midwest where everyone helps everyone, so I help with it. When it in place, he gives me a grateful smile that makes me feel good. Now when I pass this house with this tree, I cannot help but smile a bit.