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And then a drift of movement outside the window caught my eye. I let out a gasp, and set down my champagne flute.
“It’s snowing!”
Sure enough, soft white flakes were drifting down, just beginning to settle on the balcony. Calvin glanced outside and grinned.
“I guess the forecasters got it right this time.”
Apparently so. I got up from the couch and went over to the window. A gentle veil of white was beginning to settle over Broad Street, promising more to come.
A sudden thought struck me. “Let’s walk over to the nativity scene,” I suggested. “I want to see it with the snow falling.”
Calvin lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure? It’s below freezing out there.”
He didn’t say anything other than that, but I could tell he was thinking that I, a soft transplant from Southern California, couldn’t handle that kind of weather.
All the more reason to go out, though. This was my first snowfall, and I didn’t want to miss it.
“I’m sure.”
A small shake of his head, and then he got up from the sofa. We both headed over to retrieve our coats — and I my hat and gloves — from the tiny closet in the entryway, and then we went downstairs and let ourselves out.
As he’d warned me, the air felt bitterly cold. All the same, there was something magical about those feathery flakes falling all around us, feeling like a kiss as they touched my face before turning chill and wet.
Calvin’s hand found mine, and together we walked the several blocks to St. Ignatius. Snow had already begun to settle on the carved figures of the nativity, and the snowy scene felt absolutely quiet, almost dreamy. So different from rain, which always seemed to make its presence felt.
I gazed down into the cradle, at the baby Jesus that had been carved so many decades earlier. Now it was safe, back where it was supposed to be. The Christ child wore the faintest of smiles on his chubby little lips, as if he knew the snow was nothing to worry about, that he’d weathered many storms before this and would weather many more.
My fingers tightened on Calvin’s, and I looked up to see him smiling down at me, snowflakes collecting on his shining black hair. This man, this amazing person, wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.
And I would spend my life with him. We would be here together in Globe, this place that had once felt strange to me and now was the home I’d always wanted, even if it had taken me a few decades to figure out what my heart had been trying to tell me.
“Thank you,” I told him, and his lips curved in a smile. He didn’t reply; he didn’t need to.
This — just standing here, watching the snow fall as the night lay quiet and still all around us — this was our true Christmas miracle.
* * *
