Small Church Christmas

We have nothing in common. Except the most important thing.

The white clapboard church has red doors, and a graveyard with more people in it than those gathered inside. It is 20 miles to the nearest gas, much further than that if you were hoping for a decent cup of coffee.

There are no signs on the road except rural route markers, but everyone just calls it 'the old highway'. Irony or not, I cannot tell.

Ever sinc…