In a city where Christmas was not just a season but a vibrant spectacle, I grew up as a wide-eyed girl with dreams as big as the festive decorations that adorned our neighbor's homes. The streets glittered with twinkling lights, and the air was thick with the fragrance of plum cakes, a sweet promise of holiday joy. My family wasn't rich, and though love filled our home, financial struggles cast a shadow over our ability to partake in the extravagant celebrations around us. Each year, as Christmas approached, I would gaze longingly at the festive storefronts and imagine the warmth that a Christmas tree, a crib, and hanging stars would bring to our home. "Mom, Dad, can we please buy a Christmas tree this year?" I would ask, hope and longing woven into my voice. My parents, their eyes filled with love but burdened by the weight of our circumstances, would reply with a gentle, "Sweetheart, we're tight on money this year. But we have each other, and that's t
Visualization of random thoughts