Do you hear it, kittens?
Do you feel it, when you lay your hand upon your heart?
After the running and shopping and cooking and fretting…
At the end of all the ribbons and good intentions…
When the last cookie crumbles, and the final piece of tissue paper turns into a cat toy…
…there is a sound that’s been purring all along, waiting for us to rest in its peace.
It is Steven, sixteen and more precious than any new toy.
It is Marcia, surprised by a sunbeam when she thought she’d seen it all.
It is Prescott, forgiveness on four legs.
It is Corduroy, snug as a cinnamon bun after the longest night.
It is Rori, inviting the whole neighborhood to the Community Room table.
It is Chicken Nugget, turning gold from staring directly at love.
It is Hips, happiness unwrapped.
It is Regina, too wonderful to be perfect. (Those are her eyes in the top banner.)
It is Berry, the storybook who came true.
It is Braveheart, realizing he is the gift.
It is Chester, nestled safe on this family tree.
It is the purr of peace when there is nothing left to prove, nowhere left to run, no one else to be but beloved.
The cats are better at Christmas than we are, but perhaps we might join them, just for today.
Let the hands that baked the pies learn from paws that knead blankets like daily bread.
Let the arms that carried bags hold a presence without price.
Let the voice under your ribs — that little rumble that always tells the truth — join the sweetest sound on Earth.
Let peace be your forever home, and may it last all year. There is no adoption fee.
Merry Christmas, Tabby’s Place family.