Sitting in front of the fire, sipping hot chocolate, I feel almost like I'm in a story. Not a fairy tale, exactly, but those stories of how Christmas is "supposed" to be. The wind is howling, piling snow against the door, but we're warm and safe inside.
Elizabeth tells us good night, giving each of us a kiss on the forehead. I'm touched by how she's welcomed me into her life; she reminds me so much of my mother that it's eerie.
"Don't stay up too late, boys." She gives the same impish grin Edward usually wears. "Big day tomorrow."
Friday, May 13, 2011
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Ok, phew!
ReplyDeleteHad me worried there for a sec.