a little Christmas

“Nothing lasts forever”, I said to my grandma.

I wasn’t even thinking about Mary and Joseph or the first little Christmas there under the star.  There existed no animosity between us, only pondering of lifetimes, changes and truths. The words we exchanged found a soft place to land, and it seemed like my point had in breaths been well-taken.  Grandma waited for a moment, and then she made hers.

“Salvation does”.

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