Christmas on Mason Lewis Road I was sitting in my kitchen a few nights ago. It was disturbingly quiet, which is rare for most of us that have a family. The house was void of all light except for the twinkling Christmas lights on my tree and the new addition of curtain lights that I had proudly displayed a few weeks prior. A feeling struck me very deeply, like it always does during the holidays. I could smell the Christmas cookies that my grandmother made for us every year and I could feel the heat coming off the old stove that my grandfather always had blasted at what seemed like 150 degrees. I could, in the dead of the quiet, hear my aunts and uncles discussing the gifts that they had purchased for my grandparents. I could hear the singing of four cousins, one of those being my own tiny voice, as they planned their annual Christmas play to perform for the family. A play that would be practiced as if it were a Broadway performance, yet would never be acted out in that tiny living