She was 93, last Christmas. She was 12 when she went to my house to work for my Great-grandfather. And there she stayed. It seemed like it would be that way forever. Every Christmas of my life was spent in her company. After a journey of hard work, she decided it was time to rest. This year, it feels strange. I miss walking her back home, just down the road, after midnight. Amazing, the stars were always shining during those five minutes.
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