A CHRISTMAS STORY

I woke up in the forest, I did not know how or why I had arrived there, data that confirms that it was a dream, or a slight delirium, since last week I had a fever, like everyone else. The fact is that I was in the forest and without any awareness that it was only part of my imagination, the leaves crunched under my feet, the light came floating through the leaves and smelled like firewood.

I began to walk barefoot toward a clearing in the woods that seemed to pulsate softly. As I got closer I could make out a table composed of pink and sienna embroidered tablecloths, with its candles and all its details. Behind it was the tree, perfectly decorated like those of my childhood. The aroma of burning logs grew more and more intense, and indeed, there was the crackling fireplace, which gave warmth and play of light and shadow to that table with Limoges porcelain. Around it, the people who were about to sit down moved as if in slow motion: my siblings, my parents, my cousins, my grandparents! That table was part of my childhood Christmas memories. We would sing Christmas carols at the table, our parents would scold us, but we were so happy that after a few seconds we would go back to humming and singing, with our mouths full of sugared almonds, chocolate nougat and panettone. How beautiful my grandmother always looked, how I wanted to hug her! I didn't try to sit down as I was already there, part of the scene, sitting with my little legs hanging off the chair in itchy tights and my new velvet ballerinas. I was wearing my pretty Christmas dress and my mouth was missing a few teeth. I was very happy. I was engrossed in that scene.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, once, twice, three times. No one at that table seemed to hear it, but it rang loud and clear. I turned and saw myself in my house, in front of my door listening to my actual doorbell, and suddenly I was pulled aside by someone running from the kitchen with an apron and a messy bow tie to open the door. She was wearing a beautiful dress... wait a minute, that dress was my new dress that I had given myself for my birthday! The one who opened the door was me, and those who came in, my usual friends! They greeted me with kisses, hugs, I apologized for still looking like that. "We know you, Manuela, we knew you would be like this, Merry Christmas!". While attending this meeting unnoticed, I peeked, out of pure curiosity into my living room to see how I had set the table myself. How wonderful! It was a combination of beige and ecru tablecloths with aqua green stoneware and delicate hand-painted balls scattered around the table, so elegant! This year I had really excelled myself, no doubt. Just then my friends were celebrating the beauty of my table, as was I, from across the room, unseen. My dinner this year was going to be wonderful, what a joy!

And while I was laughing at the jokes of my people, I noticed how little hands grabbed my fingers and took me to another place, "come Manuela, let's eat". Who were those children? I tried to see their faces, but I couldn't, only their little hands holding mine, suddenly more bony and veiny. They were leading me through a field of almost leafless trees to an absolutely magical outdoor table that mixed shades of green with hints of terracotta. There were my lifelong embroidered tablecloths, layered and matched with my china painted with birds and another with pheasants. The soft light of the winter sun shone sideways and the candles moved to the sound of the cool breeze. Warm, large hands wrapped around my shoulders to cover them with a brown cashmere blanket.

The man who had his arms around me kissed me behind the ear and told me what a beautiful family we have formed, Manuela, and you already have competitors who set tables as spectacular as you!

I smiled and woke up with that smile on my lips. For a moment I wanted to stay there, enjoying the sensations, but I know it is useless because there is no way to hold on to a fading dream.

Suddenly something sparked in me and I sat up with a jump, grabbed the notebook I always keep on my nightstand to write down the dreams before they lost sharpness and wrote down in detail the three Christmas tables that had appeared to me in the dream, the past, the present and the future.