Last night the silver moonlight dappled the clouds in the pale night sky, and we whispered to Glyn's house a secret we had heard.
" Wait " we said, " for we have heard that one day next week he will be home." And we are spreading the word to all in the hope that Nadolig will hear and return.
It seemed that the house breathed a sigh in the moonlight. Can a house hold its breath? Maybe one such as this, made from stones from the fields around where it stands, lived in and loved, a home.