Silent Night

We closed early tonight at work. The roads were slick, and the snow was coming down like rain, dancing in layers onto the trees, cars, and everything else in my little part of the earth. It's crazy how often I don't notice the beauty in those little flakes. But on this wintry night, since I was waiting for my ride home, I had an extra five minutes. I was left alone in a space filled with the most magical feeling of warmth and hope. And for this five minutes, I experienced the most peace I've felt in a long while. Despite the faint hum of a train whistle, and the occasional car sludging by, everything was completely quiet and I began to sing. On my silent night, there was one bright, clear, shining star that reminded me of a night a long time ago. On my silent night, I sang of a , our Savior, who was born in a bed of straw, on a night very similar to mine. On this silent night, my heart was quieted and satisfied as I remembered the gift I had been given, long before I even came into existence, and the gift that I can now give back at Christmas, and throughout the entire year.