Home For the Holidays

There is a certain kind of sadness that accompanies the holidays. Sure, you've got your warm hearts, and mittens, and hot apple cider... But there are those of us who sit by the window and look inside. Unseen. Unnoticed. We watch while people share eggnog, tell ghost-stories, and slice up pecan pies. Somewhere deep down, it warms us up seeing these happy things that the rest take for granted.

Scarves, hot cocoa, and presents are all people can talk about in the streets. Who's getting what for who, and where's the best price to find item X. Me? I'm glad if I have a place by someone's window where I can fall asleep feeling the warmth from within. I don't have a scarf, but I'm furry enough that the cold doesn't REALLY bother me all that much. The snow is pretty, and the people who do stop and look at me are kind and gentle [mostly]. I've had the few odd kids that throw rocks, or try and step on me, but then again - who doesn't? I think the thing that I'd really like this year, though, Santa willing, would be a handler.

Sure, I can hear you saying 'But no Wyrm is without a Handler!'. I can even see the righteous indignation in your eyes as you say it. But life isn't about absolutes now, is it? I don't know how I came to be this way. I suppose someone maybe dropped my egg somewhere. Or maybe it got washed down into the sewers, or stolen by a family pet... All I know is that I'm out here now, it's cold, and it's supposed to be Christmas.

Somehow, the warmth from the hearths of others is just never enough to satisfy a desire this deep. Handlers care for you. They protect you. They sing to you and bring you gifts, and treat you like you really, truly exist. At Christmastime, I've seen Wyrms on their Handler's shoulders, dressed up all pretty and fine in hats and scarves, the biggest smiles on their faces! It's amazing! The holiday cheer seems to spread outward wherever they walk, and touches people who were maybe having a bad day, or didn't find what they were looking for. And some of those people, in turn, spread it to others, and on and on it goes. I've watched it happen. It's like a bunch of Merry Dominos that lead a trail all the way back to the comforts of home. Most times, that's enough. Seeing people smile, and hearing the carols? Mostly, it's enough to keep me - and the millions of others out on the streets - warm and happy.

But when it's not, that's when you start missing things, or wondering things. Like: What would it be like to have a Handler? Or: What would I do if the fire I made for warmth were in a chimney? Or even the popular: What if I got what I truly wanted for Christmas? A lot of creatures and people in my situation dismiss these questions as pipe-dreams and fantasy. But you know? Somehow, despite everything, I still do believe.

I ask myself questions like that all the time. Not just during the holidays. I guess it's the fact that everyone's supposed to be joyous, and everything's so bright that just drives home the hope even more. Every morsel of food I snatch, every happy memory I witness, every snowflake that melts to perfect ice on the streets - I look at them all and I think, and I wish, and I BELIEVE. I see success, too, out here. People that strike it rich on accident, or creatures that wind up looking unbearably cute and get homes for the holidays. Each and every one of them fills me with the certainty that YES, there IS a home out there somewhere. Someone special is waiting for me, I just haven't found them yet.

That's my mantra, my creed, what keeps me going, even through the winter's chill. Because whenever I look through a window, and see a happy, healthy Squirm, all snuggled up into a Handler's arms, or snug and safe beneath a blanket... I still have the capability to imagine myself among them. Oh, it may be just that - imagination. I may never get what I truly desire. But you know? Something in me keeps on ringing, just like that bell carol that's so popular this time of year. It keeps on echoing in my head a single word: Home.

Home, Home, Home, Home. Like a Christmas wish filled with candy and toys. Or like the proverbial sugarplums that dance within the good little children's dreams. It's something powerful and sentimental, but that's what makes the holiday bright, right? There's that old song: "There's No Place Like Home For The Holidays", and I believe every word of it.

"If you want to be happy in a million ways,
For the holidays, you can't beat home sweet home."

And Santa? Again I look to the skies and ask you with all my little fuzzy, Wyrmish heart: Will this Christmas be the year I get to go 'Home'?