The priest is giving a sermon. Everybody is listening eagerly: little kids, old folks, young people and also his mom. The only one who isn't listening is Alex. He's just sitting there. In the second pew. The world goes quiet around him. He's staring at his feet in hopes to not go crazy. He can't do this anymore. Going to church just doesn't feel right. It never really did, but what could he do about it?

He always sang along, prayed and pretended to be fine with those things. But he just doesn't understand, what his mom believes in. It doesn't make sense to him. Is it a person? Several? Or even a place? He doesn't know. And probably never will.

Suddenly the priest stops talking. Alex has stood up. Everyone stares at him. Well, that wasn't a good idea. Now his head is getting red. He storms outside. He needs some air. He just remembered the talk he had with his mom earlier. She told him, that grannies old vase had slipped out of her hands. It was big and had flowers on it. Small, blue flowers. It always looked kinda welcoming and warm to him.

But maybe that is because it belonged to her. She loved it. She always put flowers in it. Always. Even when there were none growing outside. Alex used to pick up some beautiful looking flowers from their garden, when he went to visit her. She was always very happy about them. And he was always very glad she liked them.

Anyways, the vase is broken and his mom was very upset about it. He understands her. He would've been too. She just sat there. At the kitchen table on her chair. It's the one with the red cushion. Alex has a purple one. His mom sat there with her head in her hands. Elbows on the table. She sat like that for a long time. Then she sighed. "Alex, you know it's normal for things to pass, right? For things to break? Even before you intended them to? Because it is.".

He just stood there. Arms on his side, nodding, when she looked at him. "I know I yelled when the vase broke and I'm sorry for that. Okay?" He sat down. Hands in his lap. Quiet. Then he nodded again, a serious expression on his face.

She smiled. And took his hand. They looked at each other a bit. After some time she stood up, her chair screeching over the floor, and pulled him into a heartfelt hug. It was nice. He likes that memory. He will remember it for a long time.

"Let's go, yeah?" she said, breaking the calming quiet. And so they did. They trudged through the white, bold forest, talking, laughing, holding hands. Nobody was there except them and a deer. And then they arrived at the church and everything went down hill from there.

There are too many people here. Everybody singing praise. And he doesn't understand. He also doesn't like the atmosphere. So now he's out here. Standing in front of the big, ancient, wooden doors and trying to calm down.

He is breathing hard, he noticed when he felt his chest heaving heavily. He sits down and forms a snowball. And another one. And another one. And another one. And suddenly all the snow around him transforms into little balls.