Celebration

This wee book has sat on my to-read shelf for many months . I just didn't feel drawn to it until yesterday - maybe I finally needed to celebrate!
It's a short book of short stories and poems, some by more established authors and other by new writers, published for the first time.
Some were very Scottish and others placeless, all were true and personal to the author. Most moving, for me, were Marianne L Berghuis' family beach trip and the poem from the Edinburgh Syrian Women's Group:

How I Celebrate

They are more like quiet flowers, really,
my celebrations now. They unfurl softly -
more like small gifts of gentleness
than huge horse-heart triumphs.

I don't want to come in first. I want
to reach the end of the day without tears,
to see my friends again and hug them,
to feel depression lift like tiredness
after a nap. This is how I celebrate,
these days: a slow smile for each coffee
finished, each hope nourished, each small
joy.