acem, Pacem, Pacem…

The hymn rang throughout the cathedral, but all the urchin could hear from the outside was “Pacem,” over and over, like a mantra. It was if an angel were whispering in her ear, bidding her heart be still.

Covered by heaping blankets upon pillows upon mattresses of snow, the streets remained untouched. With the entire town at the vigil services, it would remain so for at least another hour. Sitting in the corner, she huddled beneath a dusty double wedding ring quilt she had rescued from an alley only days before. A little present to herself, she had thought at the time. If one was more than a few yards away, he might think she was huddling beneath the snow. But the flakes all seemed to melt as soon as they touched the fabric, blocking the icy cold and keeping her warm beneath its fading softness.

Pacem, Pacem, Pacem…

Soon the crowds would pour out into the crisp night. But for now, it was her own giant quilt, on a giant bed, in a giant palace.

Sleep would come easy tonight.

© text by Kerrie Colantonio