It was just another Christmas Eve, like all the Christmas Eves of every year.

She had spent the entire day putting the finishing touches on the holiday preparations. The whole family was gathering for dinner at her parents' house. Everyone came for these holidays, and no one, absolutely no one, allowed themselves—or rather, no one was even permitted—to be absent for any reason other than a truly compelling one, such as illness. Even in that case, the illness had to be truly debilitating; otherwise, the affected person could and should always attend, even if not in perfect physical condition.

María, excited and nervous about the preparations, mentally reviewed the gifts she had bought and carefully arranged.

"Let's see, let's see ... Pedro, Azucena, little Rocío..." she said, closing her eyes and imagining the gifts and the faces they would all make when they received them.

The children eagerly awaited Aunt María's arrival. "Oh, Aunt María! Always so nervous, so chatty, and so affectionate, so much so that the children both desired and feared her hugs and kisses. More than hugging them, she squeezed and kissed them relentlessly, and the older children tried to escape by putting their elbows out in front of them like a shield, but even that didn't get them away from Aunt María's clutches.

***

The woman, lying on the bench, curled up as best she could, trying to let the little warmth that remained in her bruised body escape through the tears in the rags that wrapped her. "It's so cold!" she said to herself as she huddled together in a corner.

She watched people hurry by, each carrying several bags, probably gifts or food for the evening.

"How I wish I could be like them, have a family, a house, children, a husband who loved me..."

She closed her eyes and imagined she was walking down the street, worried about being late home and not having enough time to prepare the Christmas turkey. Dad, Mom, her siblings, everyone, everyone would come tonight. And the children? Of course, the children too!

A wave of warmth washed over her. She felt a halo of energy course through her entire being, rising from her toenails and spreading in branches of light and heat to each and every cell of her fragile body. Her heart beat rapidly, almost as if it were singing and leaping. She closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by this drowsiness. The voices faded away, the Christmas carols playing from the loudspeakers in the street slowed down, fading away, little by little, little by little. María surrendered, gave herself over...

***

María was finally able to reunite with her loved ones, those who had died in the fire that broke out on Christmas Eve ten years ago, where she, María, Aunt María, was the only survivor. She was a living dead woman awaiting her resurrection.