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!”
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