The Christmas Star Of Willowbrook
Chapter Six – Ella Sings Alone
The square fell quiet again.
The wind still swept through Willowbrook, lifting snow into twisting shapes, but now the sounds felt farther away, as though the storm itself were listening.
Ella stood beneath the tall Christmas tree, her boots half-buried in snow. The lanterns around the square flickered, their light soft and uncertain. She could feel Grandpa’s presence just behind her, warm and steady, but no one else had stepped fully into the square yet.
For a moment, doubt crept in.
Her fingers curled tightly inside her mittens.
What if this is as far as it goes? she wondered.
She looked up.
The sky was dark and clouded, heavy with snow. No star shone there. Not yet.
Ella closed her eyes.
She thought of snowmen and laughter, of lantern-lit streets, of Grandpa’s harmonica humming by the fire. She thought of Willowbrook waiting, not just for a star, but for something to believe in.
She took a breath.
Then she sang.
Not loudly.
Not perfectly.
Just clearly.
Her voice carried into the square, threading its way through the wind like a silver ribbon.
~ I’ll Sing Until You Shine ~
Verse 1
I don’t know how far my song can go,
Or if the sky will hear me so,
But I will sing through drifting snow
And trust the light I find.
Verse 2
If hope is small and barely seen,
Like stars behind a winter screen,
I’ll sing for what might yet have been,
And what is close behind.
Chorus
I’ll sing until you shine again,
However dark the night,
I’ll sing until the world remembers
Love is stronger than the night.
Verse 3
One breath, one tune, one honest sound,
Can turn the quiet all around,
And even hearts that have been bound
May open wide in time.
Chorus
I’ll sing until you shine again,
However dark the night,
I’ll sing until the world remembers
Love is stronger than the night.
Outro
So here I stand, and here I stay…
I’ll sing the light back on its way.
When the last note faded, the wind eased.
Just a little.
Snow slowed, drifting gently now instead of racing. One by one, footsteps echoed into the square.
Someone began to hum. Another voice joined. A child’s voice, thin but brave.
Ella opened her eyes. The square was no longer empty.
High above the clouds, unseen but unmistakable, something brightened.
Not fully. Not yet. But enough.