That most elusive gift that no one knows. No one expects.
Hiding. Patiently. Under a box of ornaments out in the garage.
Silently. Waiting to be discovered. Wondrous.
Uncovered . . . yes, it will be uncovered. Discovered? . . . not a chance.
This day, more than others, there are plans. Deadlines. Steps that must be taken. Food that must be eaten. Presents that must be opened. Joy that must be experienced. An agenda . . . but an agenda with teeth.
The box of ornaments will be lifted. The supreme gift will be exposed. Perhaps with a missed heartbeat, or a subtle momentary feeling of not being alone in the garage. A hesitation. A fissure in time.
Nothing and everything – encapsulated in one split-second.
It’s Christmas: back-stage.
The Infinite 