Christmas lights are forehead kisses

How beautiful it is, really, that strangers wrap their homes in greens and golds to guide you home on the longest nights.

We can’t walk around kissing each others’ foreheads, but we can inflate Frosty and hang Mr. and Mrs. Claus’ linens out to dry.

It is dark and cold, but the guy next door went to Lowe’s to make sure you had a beacon for when the sun sets before your lunch digests.

It is dark out there. Incredibly bleak. Yet, ladders get raised and strings of lights get strewn. We love each other.

May each passerby make it home safely.