In case you don’t read right down to the very bottom, (although I advise you to do so) I want to make it clear that I did not write this beautiful story. I’m merely sharing it in the true spirit of Christmas…
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It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years or so.
It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas–oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it–overspending… the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma—the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.
Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so…
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Hazy Shades of Me 
Very sad and beautiful story…
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