That year Christmas was a mix of joy and sadness. A dear uncle of Father's had passed away. Mother was in the middle of baking and cleaning the house for parents and great-grandparents to come and stay for the holiday when Father called with the news. A change of plans, bags packed quickly; Pigeon and his parents piled into the car with Grandma and Grandpa for the long ride to a place where they could say goodbye and visit with grief.
Mother was glad that for Pigeon, the trip was just another party. He met aunt and uncles and cousins he'd never met before. All were glad to know him. Someone's little girl chased him down and gave him his first kiss. There was food, and people talking and laughing around tables. If he caught the sadness in the smiles, he didn't let on. He went about his play, doling out smiles of his own and cheering heavier hearts. Such was the nature of Pigeon's gifts--given easily, in passing, but not easily forgotten.
That year Christmas was a mix of joy and sadness. A dear uncle of Father's had passed away. Mother was in the middle of baking and cleaning the house for parents and great-grandparents to come and stay for the holiday when Father called with the news. A change of plans, bags packed quickly; Pigeon and his parents piled into the car with Grandma and Grandpa for the long ride to a place where they could say goodbye and visit with grief. 
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