Letter XII: Pending Christmas (Déjà vu) and a Changed Opinion on a Particular Book

Hello, Tim!
Quite surprisingly, it has been an uneventful week, as most of the things passed without much fuss. The weather is still pretty cold that I have been wearing all my gloves and hats still, but at the same time, it was more or less assuring that we still have normal winters, instead of days with high temperatures that feel like summer days. Now that would be disconcerting.

I stand Corrected- I Finished A Dog's Purpose

Surprise, surprise.

Last Thursday, I finally finished the book that I once pegged as "A book without a good opening", but as I processed with finishing the book, my opinion changed gradually from "A book that deserves a better opening" to "A book with not bad an opening" and finally, "a book that made me shed a tear or two". Opinions changed because as the storyline continues on, it gave a solemn and a crucial role to the plots that happened in the past/in the previous lives of the dog.

In the dog's long term of life, it has been searching for its purpose, going through different owners, different names, genders, fur colors... All the confusion drove it to an only possible answer: It has a purpose in this world. It was indeed filled with the kind of adorableness only a dog can infuse, and when it died of age from his second owner, I drop some tears, as the words inside the book, indicating tears for the owners inside resonated with me. There I was, on the metro, dripping one drop of tear or two while being cautious not to drip any of them onto the book.

It has a sequel, along with a movie adaption; I want to enjoy them both.

About the Comment of Last Week

About the writing competition, Tim, I saw your comment of last week, and I want to say that you are so kind of what you wrote! But one thing about competitions is that you get to meet someone better than you are. Maybe one is just a mere inch better than you are, while some can make a ten miles distance. We didn't get to see the compositions of all competitors so I cannot determine how much better the winner is, compared to what I wrote. Though quite reluctant was I, I still had to accept defeat, no matter how subjective this kind of competition can be. I'll see if I would still be capable of participating the same contest again next year, and we'll see if I can attain a better result.

Aubrey and I at the ceremony

Christmas 

Christmas has worn the silent slippers of his, slowly making its way towards us.

The wind howls, surreptitiously indicating the end of the year.
This is the time of year when we give out our kind wishes to the others.
When we hear that you ask us to make a Christmas card for you, no one had any objections, for we know that this is also a part of Christmas spirits.
First some pictures (something that was requested by Summer but also what I happily obliged)

Christmas tree in our community; I dragged Mom and Dad out of our house for this

Perks of having a cousin's house that was within ten minutes of walking distance:

Cute photo models within a reach of an arm.

:D Kids make me happy sometimes.

To be honest, I had a bad time thinking of what to put on my Christmas card for you, Tim, for I have no idea of how to draw nor do I know how I can integrate the computer art into such a sheet of blank paper.
Oh, believe me, Tim. This is the best I can make...

Well, I tried...

Small Preview

So as you know, we have long decided to publish a class magazine of our own, and we were all asked to submit an article we wrote during the happening two years. 

I once had had an idea of writing a short novel, but later on, reality proved that I had no time for such time-taxing demeanor.

That was when I fished out a passage I wrote in the first semester of the first year of high school, which was a short Christmas story. I typed it on my computer and lengthened it and resculpted and polished it to make it a class-magazine-worthy content.

The following is the original unabridged and unaltered version I wrote a year ago.

It's the New Years Eve, and Timmy's house was surrounded with a cozy, warm atmosphere.

Timmy is eight years old now, and he finally got the opportunity to decorate the Christmas tree. Looking at the bags of decorations and tinsels he bought with Dad in the Christmas shop on the next street.

His baby sister, Holly, was sleeping soundly in her crib, which is as well decorated with Christmas ribbons and Santa Claus stickers. Her small hands holding on to her toy teddy bear, the smile still apparent on her small, round face expressed content and happiness and joy.

The Christmas tree was right there, and Timmy didn't want to keep it waiting.

He removed the decorations from the bag and sorted them out. 

He chose a bright, striking bundle of blue tinsel. He started rounding it around the tree.

It didn't turn out well.

He tripped over, he fell with a large thump; he tied himself up by accident and fell again.

"I'm doing it all by myself!" Timmy remembered saying to his parents.

"I can't." "MOM! DAD!" Mom and Dad rushed over at Timmy's hollering. They carefully freed Timmy from the 'trap' of the blue strings and offered to decorate the tree together.

Out in the freezing cold, snowy night, through the never-ending forest of pine trees, you can see a house, radiating warmth, joy, and everlasting Christmas blessing, as if the snowflakes nor the relentless wind didn't exist.

...

SO, this is how it was a year ago, and I am planning that on the day of 25th December, I will post the more refined and lengthy version as an individual post. Stay tuned!

What a Short Letter!

Sadly, there wasn't much to talk about, and there were no study questions...

I promise, there is more to talk about next week. 

Sincerely,

Hugo