A Christmas Gift for Mom

Bobby was getting cold sitting in his back yard in the snow.
Bobby didn’t wear boots; he didn’t like them and anyway, he didn’t own any. The thin sneakers he wore had a few holes in them and they did a poor job of keeping out the cold.
Bobby had been in his backyard for about an hour already. Try as he might, he could not come up with an idea for his mother’s Christmas gift. He shook his head as he thought, “This is useless. Even if I do come up with an idea, I don’t have any money to spend.”
Ever since his father had passed away three years ago, the family of five had struggled. It wasn’t that his mother didn’t try hard enough. She worked nights at the hospital, but the just wage that she was earning could only be stretched so far. What the family lacked in money and material things, they more than made up in love and family unity.
Bobby had two older and one younger sister, who ran the household in their mother’s absence. All three of his sisters had already made beautiful gifts for their mother. Somehow it just wasn’t fair. Here it was Christmas Eve already and he had nothing. Wiping a tear from his eye, Bobby kicked the snow and started to walk down the street toward the shops and stores. It wasn’t easy being six years old without a father
when he needed a man to talk to.
Bobby walked from shop to shop, looking into each decorated window. Everything seemed so beautiful and so out of reach. It was starting to get dark and Bobby reluctantly turned to walk home when suddenly his eye caught the glimmer of the setting sun’s rays reflecting off of something along the curb. He reached down and discovered a shiny dime. Never before has anyone felt so wealthy as Bobby felt at that moment. As he held his new found treasure, a warmth spread throughout his entire body
and he walked into the first store he saw. His excitement turned cold when the salesperson told him he couldn’t buy anything with only a dime.
He saw a flower shop and went inside to wait in line. When the shop owner asked if he could help him, Bobby presented the dime and asked if he could buy one blossom. He put his hand on Bobby’s shoulder and said to him, “You just wait here and I will see what I can do for you.”
As Bobby waited he looked at the beautiful flowers and even though he was a boy, he could understand why mothers and girls liked flowers.
The sound of the door closing as the last customer left, jolted Bobby back to reality. All alone in the shop, Bobby began to feel alone and afraid. Suddenly the shop owner came out and moved to the counter. There, before Bobby’s eyes, lay twelve long stem, red roses, with leaves of green and tiny white flowers all tied together with a big silver bow.
Bobby’s heart sank as the owner picked them up and placed then gently into a long white box. “That will be ten cents young man,” the shop owner said, reaching out his hand for the dime. Slowly, Bobby moved to give the man his dime. Could it be true? No one else would give him a thing for his dime!

Sensing the boy’s reluctance, the shop owner added, “I just happen to have some roses on sale for ten cents a dozen. Would you like them?”
This time Bobby did not hesitate, and when the man placed the long box into his hands, he knew it was true. Walking out the door that the owner was holding for Bobby, he heard the shop keeper say, “Merry Christmas, son.
As he returned inside, the shop keeper’s wife walked out. “Who were you talking to back there, and where are the roses that were setting here?”
Staring out the window, and blinking the tears from his own eyes, he replied, “A
strange thing happened to me this morning. While I was setting up things to open the
shop, I thought I heard a voice telling me to set aside a dozen of my best roses for a special gift. I wasn’t sure at the time whether I had lost my mind or what, but I set them aside anyway. Then just a few minutes ago, a little boy came into the shop and wanted to buy a flower for his mother with one small dime. When I looked at him, I saw myself, many years ago. I too, was a poor boy with nothing to buy my mother a Christmas gift. A small bearded man, whom I never knew stopped me on the street and told me that he wanted to give me ten dollars.
When I saw that little boy tonight, I knew who that voice was, and I put together a dozen of my very best roses.”
The shop owner and his wife hugged each other tightly, and as they stepped out into the bitter cold air, they somehow didn’t feel the cold at all.

A Splendid Christmas

Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”


Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”



Kay MacIntyre inched along behind the squeaky wheels of her walker.

Her intention was to enter the kitchen without bumping her ulcerated leg or scraping the

paint off the door jamb. A warm bathrobe covered her short stocky frame and zipped up

to her neck. Her wavy silver hair was combed

Glancing around their comfortable kitchen, she noticed her husband was in his

usual place. “Well Jim, I see you’re already in your rocking chair. How are you today?”

Jim was a gentle old man, his tall thin body as limber as a youth. He broke into a

wide grin. “Oh so-so,” he said. “Come look at all the birds eating at the feeders. We

must be in for a storm.”

They watched the woodpeckers, cardinals, and chickadees, and smiled at the

antics of the squirrels who made it their business to chase away the bluejays. They were

thankful for their warm home as they observed the snow swirling around the houses as

long as Kay’s bad leg would allow.

“Ok, I better get some breakfast ready before my leg quits,” said Kay. Her

cheerful chatter made for pleasant listening as she slowly prepared their meal and called

Jim to the table.

“Today is Christmas Eve”, she sighed. I didn’t get any decorations out---no

cookies made.”

“No chocolate fudge,” reminded Jim.

“No company coming,” added Kay. “I miss our children the most.”

“You understand why they’re not here don’t you?” asked Jim. “They’re too far

away and besides, they need to be with their own families. I don’t fault them.”

Kay shrugged defensively, and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I’m not

criticizing, but I do enjoy their visits.” They lapsed into silence, their minds busy with

memories of past Christmas fun; sledding and skating, with wet jackets and

gloves hung up to dry all over the house.

“Jim, why don’t we have our own celebration tonight? I’ll find the candles and

you start a fire in the fireplace. We’ll eat our tomato soup and crackers in by the fire.”

And so it was that this couple was sitting in their warm and comfortable

living room, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes dozing, each thankful for their

cosy home, for their kind neighbors who shoveled their sidewalk and brought in the

mail, and for the fact that they were still able to be together when they were startled by

glorious music.
“Away in a manger, no crib for His bed.”

On the deck, outside their living room window, stood a group of singers

bracing themselves against the spinning snowdrifts tossed around by a stiff wind. They

watched earnest youngsters dressed in warm snowsuits and stocking hats singing their

hearts out, and older men and women, some holding young children close to keep them

warm. Their harmonious voices sounded, to these two old people, like music straight

from heaven. The group sang several songs, shouted “Merry Christmas” and let the

strong wind push them down the street.

“May God add His blessing to those people, whoever they are,” said Jim.

“Yes,” smiled Kay. “I’ve enjoyed this Christmas Eve and here we thought we’d

be alone!”