Orla lay sprawled out on the floor, her brown hair spread out like a fan above her. The ends curled every which way and that as she lay on the hardwood. The rough flooring chilled her back through the gap in her shirt as she stretched, her hands and feet reaching as far as they could go, determined to reach the invisible goal she had set in her mind. The white lace curtain over the window fluttered softly as the smell of mint incense drifted through the air, the smoke from the incense stick making swirls in the air as the wind chimes outside continued their constant song in the background with each gust of wind. Orla’s mother was bent over the altar in the corner of their living room as she lit a yellow candle with the sides engraved with hand-carved suns. Dried and cut oranges adorned the edge along with a few branches from the pine tree outside that she helped cut off. The cloth draped on the table was a deep red with snowmen adorning the edging. The colour reminded her of Rudolph's nose or the small berries on a holly plant. Each candle flame flickers with every small movement her mom makes as she checks each candle. The light cast a small warm glow against the wall as the flames flicked. Orla raised her hands to her face, the smell of pine and oranges lingered on her fingers from when she had helped set up the altar with her mother earlier. Orla’s mother blew out the match, setting it down on a decorative plate, and walked towards Orla. Her steps were light and sure as she lay down beside Orla. Their shoulders touched as they stared up at the painted ceiling, the two closed their eyes and sighed softly as the snow fell silently outside. A silent tradition of meditation between the two, Orla was instantly calmed by the silence as a comfortable feeling settled in her.