A Warm Christmas Eve: The Solitude and Hope of an Immigrant's Christmas

"This is lonely, especially on a night like this."

[🎧 The audio version is available at the bottom of the page.] ⬇

(Scene: A Street in London, 10 PM. YOU, a Busker, sling your saxophone case over your shoulder and walk toward a Polish grocery store.)

You: Three years… Three years in this city, and I’ve never felt more alone. Is this what I came here for? To stand in the cold, playing for people who barely notice?

(You glance at a couple holding hands as they pass.)

You: Yeah. This is lonely, especially on a night like this. But… would it be any different if I were back home?

(You adjust the saxophone case on your shoulder.)

You: I was always alone there too. Sure, I had a job. Colleagues. Someone to grab a meal with… but not on Christmas. Everyone’s busy with family, girlfriends, relatives.

(You kick a pebble on the sidewalk.)

You: So, after all these years, what do I have? Nothing.

(You stop, then shake your head.)

You: No. That’s not true. I have a dream. And a healthy body. I don’t smoke. I keep in shape so I can play my saxophone the best I can.

(You grip the strap of the saxophone case tightly.)

You: People may not understand what I’m doing, but I do. And that’s enough. The only thing that matters now is time.

(You approach the Polish grocery store, grab a loaf of bread and a carton of milk, both discounted, and head to the cashier.)

(A CASHIER with a European accent rings up your items.)

Cashier: Happy Christmas to you!

(You pause, surprised by her warmth.)

You: Thanks… Happy Christmas to you too. Long shift tonight?

Cashier: Yeah, till midnight. People need liquor to celebrate Christmas. Not many places open this late, so someone’s gotta do it. Do you drink?

You: Milk, yes. (You point at the carton of milk.)

Cashier: So, you’re a milk drinker.

You: Yeah, a heavy one. I’m a heavy milk drinker.

(You both laugh at the somewhat silly joke, a shared understanding that only immigrants could appreciate.)

You: Must be tough, working on Christmas Eve.

Cashier: It is, but it’s okay. I’m saving up to visit home next year. What about you? Spending Christmas with family?

You: No family… here. Just heading home after this.

Cashier: Still, at least it’s warm inside, right?

You: Yeah, that’s true. Have a good night.

Cashier: You too. Happy Christmas.

(You nod, take your bag, and head for the door, feeling a faint warmth in your chest.)

(Posted on Threads on 22.12.2024)

#ChristmasImmigrantSolitudeAndHope

(🎧 Audio Version) A Warm Christmas Eve: The Solitude and Hope of an Immigrant's Christmas