Just After the Octave of Christmas.

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The shortest season of the liturgical calendar has just ended, and I did have that chance to drop by old friends to wish them good tidings for the new year. To my sadness, the people I visited took the opportunity to tell me the innermost recesses of their hearts and the pain their bear. One was frustrated by her drunkard of a husband who literally waits for the money she sends her two children who are both in school. Another cried because her obstetrician told her she has 50-50 chance of having another ectopic pregnancy, and she dearly wanted to have children. An elderly, at 85, is seriously considering closing her diner, one she enjoys very much, because of huge financial loss. I lingered and listened, and to the best of my ability, muttered words of encouragement and hope. I promised them prayers, that the burden they feel may gradually cease. And I did pray. All throughout the octave of Christmas, I did my best to click hearts to the family pix on facebook , most of my friends festive and jolly. I sincerely enjoyed clicking the love emoticon and was happy for them. However, now I realize that those who were not on facebook were aching. Here's hoping my virtual friends are all right. As for me, I am good and looking forward to bigger tasks this year which might make my mylot activity limited. See you when I see you.