Maybe I need to immerse the fabric of my soul in torrential nature of Christmas, and in doing so to finally understand that it is the very thing that can make the world what I so wish it were.

Will I live yearning for a world that I need not yearn for because the message of Christmas is entirely undaunted in its ability to handily penetrate and completely subjugate the very world that I doubt its ability to survive in?

No matter what, the day didn't feel like Christmas to her. She remembered years ago, when she had been just a little kid, and the word had been enough to make her happy. Nothing stirred in her now. Her childhood felt like it had been in another life. As she sat alone in her room with tears drying to her face, she resolved that no matter what the calendar said, it wasn't Christmas. If it was, she'd feel happy, not depressed.