"Oh man, I was afraid it was going to be like this."

It was cold, dark, and lonely in the Brooklyn flat that Krystof shared with two other people. His two flat mates had left for the holidays, and now the place was quiet and empty. The heat mysteriously vanished, as was often the case in winter, and despite banging on the radiator and calling the Super it felt like he was living outdoors.

His job waiting tables at the restaurant was on hold for two weeks as the business was currently under repair after a kitchen fire burned through one wall.

After turning things over in his mind Krystof made the decision to travel back to his hometown in Nebraska for Christmas. Truth is, he needed the trip. He was one of many struggling singer-dancers trying to make it to the bright lights of Broadway. He had some talent. He sang in high school, and performed in the school plays and musicals since first grade. He had a few moves and people said he sang well. It was what made him happy.

His dad worked at the Co-op and repeatedly told his son that an honest living required hard work, obviously suggesting that what he loved - singing and dancing - wasn't going to get him very far.

Krystof got a part-time job at the Co-op his senior year and began saving money for college. He had no idea what he would study or what he really wanted to do. All he dreamed of doing was performing on Broadway, the pinnacle of stage performance.

Early in the summer he turned 19, the year he planned to go to college, tragedy struck the family. He was out with friends one night when an electrical short created a fire that burned the family home to the ground. His parents had been asleep and were trapped in their bedroom by flames.

Krystof came home to see two fire engines, lights flashing, hoses all over the small yard, and an ambulance with no lights, no siren. When a paramedic asked him who he was and why he was there, the fire chief was called over to give him the sad news - his parents had died in the fire. It seemed senseless and tragic and too earth shattering for a 19-year-old. He had been a typical teenager, looking forward to working all summer and then going to college. Suddenly, he was both homeless and an orphan.

His Illinois grandparents invited him to move there and stay with them while he went to college, but after a few days of reflection staying at a neighbor's house, he made a rash decision to move to New York. He wanted to see Broadway, just wanted to taste it and see if it was as fulfilling as his dreams. It had been his secret desire and now that the world had changed and everything was up in the air, he could think of no reason why he shouldn't just go.

So, one week later Krystof gathered his few belongings in a backpack and hitchhiked east, making it to New York City in three days.

The money he saved for college helped pay the rent on an apartment he found in a flyer pasted on a wall of a coffee house. He walked to the flat and soon met Jaime and Joaquin who needed a third person to afford the rent. Like much of Brooklyn's growing population, none of the three were locals.

Krystof soon got a job as a waiter in a steakhouse, working the afternoon and evening shift. He had never waited tables before, but he was young and eager and willing to work for the small wage and tips in order to pursue his dream.

The steakhouse had a dark wood interior, ornate bar, and a piano lounge which was handy because he could occasionally sing with the piano man. He did have some vocal talent, as you may remember.

Krystof also sang as a busker on weekends on the streets of Manhattan. That was great because weekends were when tourists were in town and they were usually generous tippers.

His dream of Broadway seemed so distant at times, but he answered as many casting calls as he could, getting fellow waiters to cover for him while he went to theatres.

He got occasional gigs, but never earning enough to quit waiting tables or busking. Those were meat and potatoes; the theater was dessert.

New York was a huge cultural shift. Seasons came and went with the changes of weather, which in some ways was similar to Nebraska. But the New York culture and lifestyle were way different.

At first, he soaked up the city attitudes, the intense and constantly snarled traffic, the huge buildings of Manhattan and other boroughs, and the unusual traditions like Halloween in Manhattan when the streets were filled with party-crazed and wild-looking revelers in outlandish costumes and makeup. New Year's Eve in Times Square was one massive crush of humanity but worth doing once, just to see the ball drop and feel like he witnessed something that few other people in the world could do in person.

He was learning a different way of life and while it could be exciting at times, he also felt empty. Outside of his roommates, two or three people in the apartment building, a few people at work, and some of the people he met at casting calls he didn't really know many people.

At night, sitting on his bed he thought about his life and the people he knew. Every relationship seemed so superficial.

Back home, you were born, grew up, went to school, got a job, married and eventually died surrounded by many of the same people and families. It was insular and sounded boring, but in a way it was also comforting.

Over time he developed an affection for the big city, but often in the quiet of the night he missed the prairies = the wind blowing through the wheat and corn fields, the coyotes, the seasonal bird migrations. Every season these voices called to him, but always followed by the memory that there was no home for him there anymore.

All that was back in Nebraska were memories, familiar roads, a few friends from high school, places where he used to hang out. But no family. And no home to go back to.

For the last two holiday seasons Krystof had been thinking of going back to his home town for Christmas. At holiday parties he shared his memories of the land, the expansive prairies, the sky that spread from horizon to horizon, the weather that you could watch coming to you for hours, the wildlife, the clouds. When he described it to his friends, he missed walking on the dirt, staring at the pitch black, starlit night, gazing over the endless prairie.

One day in November, Krystof heard about ride sharing. He started checking social media and posting on neighborhood bulletin boards. In a week he connected with three college students traveling to Council Bluffs, Iowa, that were looking to ride share. That might get him close enough to make the trip work.

As good fortune would have it, a kitchen fire at the steakhouse proved to be a fortuitous opportunity to leave town for a couple of weeks without jeopardizing his job.

Packing was easy and the day of departure finally arrived. The four ride-share travelers had agreed to split the cost of gas four ways and trade off driving. The trip to Council Bluffs took a whole day, only stopping for gas and food.

Arriving in Council Bluffs Krystof shouldered his backpack and confirmed timing for the return trip. He hitchhiked the 350 miles from Council Bluffs to his hometown, and he was there after four rides.

A long-haul trucker dropped him off at his hometown and Krystof walked to the house of his old high school friend Niles, who had invited him to visit. The house was a big, craftsman style home, sturdy, well built with a root cellar/tornado shelter, a small garden and a large farmhouse style kitchen. He was greeted by his friend Niles and shown to an upstairs bedroom with windows that looked out over the land.

Despite being greeted with friendly smiles and hugs Krystof struggled with a deep sorrow. His friend had a wife and two kids. At 24, Krystof had no close relationships. And no family.

The evenings were nice, spent with Niles and his family. But the days were different. Niles had to work and Krystof felt awkward staying in the house with Nile's wife and kids so he walked the town and the land. At night the rejoined family gathered to watch sports, play games, eat, talk - do what families do.

Every day he spent hours walking the back roads, thinking, talking to himself, questioning so many things about his life. How did he end up like this? Why didn't life turn out better, like it had for Niles? Would there ever be a future for him? Maybe his move to New York had been too impulsive.

Two days into his visit, it was a canine that helped Krystof reach a breakthrough. The family had a big yellow farm dog, appropriately named Champ. Champ sensed Krystof's sadness and became his shadow. The two companions traversed the country roads for miles as Krystof mused, occasionally talking to Champ, and reaching down to pat his back.

Champ, in response, would turn to look at Krystof as if to say, "Thank you for the touch."

As they walked, an occasional pheasant flushed from the ditch alongside the road, exploding in a burst of wings and sound.

The roads were hard and cold but bare. There had been no snow for the last month, but it certainly would come as it does several times every winter.

The stubble in the fields created a visual texture, reminding him of his life before the world turned upside down.

As he walked, the driver of passing cars waved to Krystof. He didn't recognize any of them but he waved back reflexively. It's what you do in farm country where there aren't many people and the ones you meet are almost always neighbors, friends, or family. He felt the warm feeling of being welcomed and accepted. It was also a subtle reminder that people are comforted when they watch out for each other.

The local high school in the small town held an annual Christmas play. Niles asked Krystof to go with him and his family. "It's a tradition, Krystof. It's what we do every year so you shouldn't miss it."

And so, he rode with his friend and family to the high school where the gymnasium was decorated in fall colors, left up from Thanksgiving. But tonight, the addition of a Christmas tree at one end and two strings of horizontal Christmas lights strung on the walls gave off a whole different feeling.

The gym was filled with folding chairs and bundled people. People shuffled in, found seats and then pulled off coats and scarves, dropping them on the floor or draping them over their lap. Smiling ladies ladled heavy mugs with steaming cocoa which they placed on a folding table against one wall. Large platters of cookies and other pastries adorned another table, alongside paper plates, plastic forks and napkins.

After people settled into their seats the principal asked the audience to stand for the pledge of allegiance. Hats were doffed, eyes were bright, as the flag in the corner became the center of everyone's attention. The voices united in the pledge, something Krystof remembered but hadn't said in years.

The gym lights dimmed, lamps illuminated the stage which had a backdrop that ironically was a New York City scene.

As the play unfolded it became obvious it was a tale of homecoming. A teenage girl portrayed a student at a college in New Mexico who was now traveling back home to the Big Apple for the holidays.

The play had music that was performed less than perfectly by the high school choir and band, accented by a couple of soloists. The theme was Christmas in the big city and Krystof felt a tinge of memory of his own last several holiday seasons in New York.

The last act was a re-creation of a big New York City parade with the choir, band, and soloists walking on to the stage. Once in front of the painted backdrop of a Manhattan street scene, they held hands and sang "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

Even though the music was a little off-key, Krystof found himself wiping his eyes a few times because the melancholy he had been feeling now felt like a wound that had been opened. What he had been thinking during his visit was now starting to coalesce.

The ride home from the play was quiet, with Krystof and each member of Niles' family immersed in their own thoughts.

Safely back, sitting in the living room, the tree's lights slowly blinking, each person shared their reactions to the evening. Everyone really liked the parade scene, and Niles asked Krystof if the Manhattan scene seemed accurate.

"Yeah, it was pretty good. What did you think?"

His friend responded, "It looks like what you see on tv, but is everyone really that happy and together in such a big city?"

"Yes, and no. There are lots of people, for sure, but surprisingly when we get together we all have a feeling of community. Even strangers are friendly during the holidays. But, it's not like here," he added wistfully.

Niles' son asked, "Do people sing and dance like that on the street?"

"Sometimes. There are big parties that stretch for blocks and everyone is in a good mood. Holidays are happy times, and most people are in a pretty good mood. The big parades are really something special."

As Krystof talked he found himself smiling at the memories of New York.

The conversation wound down as the kids got ready for bed and a a little bit later Krystof excused himself to go to his room.

The night before Christmas was another big gathering in this small Nebraska town. People from the town and surrounding farms gathered downtown for the annual Christmas lighting of the big tree, with the choir of the local Methodist church leading the locals in singing Christmas carols. The Co-op ladles handed out steaming cups of hot cocoa and candy canes, and the Grange ladies served delicious brownies with white frosting on top.

It was small-town Christmas, repeated in thousands of towns in rural America. It is the coming together of locals to be together, to reminisce over the year, and to exchange good wishes. It is strangers and friends all blending for a time of togetherness, a great feeling of community warmth that carries over into each new year.

The next day, on Christmas morning, the family got up early. The tree in the corner of the living room was farm typical, strung with popcorn, some lights and even some homemade tinsel, made by Niles' crafty wife by cutting strips of clear plastic bags and tying them on the boughs. A few presents sat on the floor under the tree. The two kids were excited, sitting in pajamas, staring intently at the wrapped gifts while drinking hot chocolate. Krystof and Niles and wife sipped from mugs of hot coffee as Christmas music played in the background. A fire crackled in the fireplace.

Outside the house it was quiet. Snow fell late the night before leaving a soft blanket of white covering the land. Horses in the paddock exhaled steam into the air. Snow on the split rails glistened in the sun.

Niles began reading a story about Christmas. Everyone had heard the age-old story many times, and Krystof felt comforted by tradition, in contrast with the ever-changing beliefs and culture of the population in the cities.

As his friend reached the end of the story, presents were handed around. Krystof had brought gifts and his were the first opened by the family. There was a snow globe for the girl, a model ferry boat for the boy, and for his friend and his wife, two colorful picture books of New York City with a handbill from an off-broadway play that Krystof had been lucky enough to perform in.

Gifts were then handed to Krystof. Janine had made a friend bracelet with a small tie-string, which Krystof proudly attached to his wrist before giving her a hug. Jeffrey gave Krystof a roughly-carved figure of a man behind a plow. As he gave it to Krystof, the boy explained that everyone plows something, adding that it's important to know what you're plowing and why. Krystof quietly recognized the symbolism to his own situation, his eyes moistened a bit and he coughed to hide sudden emotions.

Niles and Jackie handed Krystof a soft package, which he unwrapped to reveal a letterman's jacket from his old high school. Krystof couldn't afford a letterman's jacket in school, even though practically everyone on the teams he played on wore theirs proudly.

Krystof slipped on the jacket and was surprised that it him perfectly.

He was having trouble understanding the emotions that were welling up but surprisingly, they weren't sad. He actually felt content for the first time since he left his hometown.

After presents, a breakfast of waffles, bacon, and eggs with gravy was served followed by everyone going outside for a walk in the snow. It was so quiet - you could see and hear your own breath. The silence was only interrupted by the soft crunch of boots in snow.

They walked for a mile down the road, silently taking in the winter scene around them before turning back toward home. Kicking snow off of boots, hanging heavy jackets on wood pegs in the enclosed porch, the five people walked back into the warm house.

A football game was on the tv as Jackie began the preparation of the Christmas meal, with help from 10 year old Janine.

The rest of the day consisted of staying warm and telling stories, with each person writing a New Year's note for the others, not to be opened before New Year's Day.

Two days later, Krystof packed his few things into his backpack, put on his letterman's jacket, said his goodbyes and his friend drove him to a truck stop on the Interstate where he hitched a ride to Council Bluffs. Several hours later he met up with his ride-sharing friends and they were on their way back to New York.

It was a long drive, giving Krystof plenty of time to reflect on the trip. He had been filled up on this journey and he felt a great sense of contentment, surprisingly hopeful about his future. He had found confidence that his past gave him a solid platform on which he could build his life. There was the sense that whatever New York held in store for him was going to be fine, and if it didn't turn out, he could create his future elsewhere. No matter what, he felt that he was going to be fine.

A week later, in the house in rural Nebraska, his friend and family opened the notes from Krystof. In each he told them what their family meant to him, how fun and happy the time was, and how much he was filled up by their warmth and hospitality, bringing him in as family.

In each note Krystof shared some of the lessons he learned, the strength he gained, the comfort he received on this trip.

"I have been given the most important gift - lessons that will take me through the rest of my life. During this trip I realized that loneliness is a condition, happiness is a choice, home is wherever you are, and family is whoever you are with.

"I lost my family and my home five years ago, but on this trip you filled me back up. Thank you!"

A week later, back in New York, Krystof opened the notes from Niles and his family. The notes were cheerful as each thanked him for coming. Both kids said that Krystof was now their "uncle" and they were so happy that he came to visit them.

Notes from Niles and Jackie added that he should plan to come back "home" every Christmas.

At that moment, he couldn't hold back. Tears traced arcs down his cheeks as he realized that they were referring to their home as his home.

And that's really the moral of this story. Life isn't perfect, it's just what you make of it. When you look at all that has happened in your life you can either feel gloom or you can realize that for all of your life you have been on a path of opportunity.

But, it's your choice.

In case you're wondering, Krystof never made it big on Broadway. He met a girl, they fell in love, they got married and each year they have traveled back "home" to Nebraska for Christmas.