A hushed crescendo descends and looms across the pews;
The distributed congregation breathes silent carols
And riddles the cloistered halls with muted prayers.
The Chaplain scurries across to accord 'hurried' blessings with yeasty loaf cakes.
The Twilight has descended and dusk shall soon be upon us. The Froebel star flutters cluelessly and with it our hope.
Look, there, through that window, a lone hibescus lay precariously perched against a screen of verdant hoar frost exuding hope, light, color, gaity!