Honey’s boots crunched in the icy slush, as she slowly made her way from her car to the front door of the church. The many vehicles in the parking lot had turned what had been fresh, pristine snow that morning into gray, dirty slush by nightfall. If she stopped to think about it long enough, it could be a metaphor for her life, but she refused to stop and think at all. She simply took a deep breath, wrapped her green wool coat more tightly about herself, and continued to make her way through the slush to the church.

Honey was late, and the service had already started. However, when she stepped onto the church’s stone front porch, she couldn’t yet make herself open the door. Instead, she savored the quiet solitude of the moment and breathed deeply of the cold night air, watching her breath exhale in smoky puffs. There was no moon tonight, only stars, and, fancifully, Honey searched the sky for that same Star that had guided the Magi to the Christ-child thousands of years ago. She needed a guiding star tonight, some shining light to point the way for her. She sighed, as she leaned her head against one of the cool white columns wrapped with festive green ivy. How could she have gotten so lost?

From where she was standing, Honey could hear the choir singing, and, when she closed her eyes, she could almost believe that it was last Christmas, and she was sitting in the pews with her best friends and not standing alone outside.

It had become a tradition of sorts for the Bob-Whites and their families. On Christmas Eve, if they were able, they would meet at the church for the early evening service. Last year, no one had gone out of town to visit family, and there had been no Christmas Eve cocktail parties in the city claiming the Wheelers’ or Lynches’ attention. Everyone had been together. And what a beautiful service it had been! The resonance of the softly sung carols and the glow of the candlelight had enveloped Honey with a warm serenity, and, surrounded by her dearest friends and family members, Honey had prayed, "Dear Lord, let us always be just like this . . ."

Tom and Celia Delanoy’s baby boy, jauntily dressed in a little Santa suit, smiled a toothless grin at Honey, as he went from Diana Lynch’s arms back to his mother. Little Zachary was to have played the Baby Jesus in the nativity scene; however, because Zack had the sniffles, Celia was afraid that he’d be too fussy to stay in the manger. Although the role had been given to another baby, Zack was very much enjoying his current role, as the happy baby being passed from one set of welcoming arms to the other. There was nothing like a baby at Christmas time! Di giggled quietly, while she helped Mart Belden wipe baby drool off the shoulder of his sweater. As the congregation stood once more to sing, Dan Mangan whispered a comment about babies that earned him a playful smack from Di and caused Mart to roll his blue eyes.

The lilting melody of the 18^th century French carol was somewhat jarred by the overly operatic falsettos of Bobby Belden and Larry and Terry Lynch, prompting stern looks from both Helen Belden and Carol Lynch and a covert wink from the jolly Ed Lynch. Seeing that the Beldens were jointly occupied with cooing at Zack, now comfortably situated in Helen’s arms, and with looking sternly at Bobby, redheaded Jim Frayne seized the opportunity. As they sat back down, he slid closer to Trixie and casually placed his arm along the wooden pew behind her. Honey smiled as she spied the fond look her adopted older brother cast upon his girlfriend, who responded with an answering blush. Honey guessed that, even when Trixie was an old lady of seventy, she’d still be blushing at fond glances received from a seventy-two year old Jim.

Two rows in front of the Bob-Whites, the Wheelers sat with the Beldens and Lynches, and Honey marveled at how comfortable and at home her parents looked sitting with the others. It didn’t seem that long ago that she was spending Christmas Eve alone with the family’s servants while her parents madly twirled from one Christmas party to another. But, five blessed years ago, Honey had gotten sick, and Matthew Wheeler had purchased the Manor House, and she had met Trixie, and they had found Jim, and . . . well, sometimes, dreams came true. And, indeed, Christmas time was a lovely time to rejoice in the blessing of those dreams coming true. Honey sighed in contentment, as the reverend began reading from the second chapter of Luke. The familiar words were almost like music.

And then the music did rise as the sounds of another carol rang out.

Joy . . . this is joy, Honey thought to herself. Beside her, Brian Belden took her hand and casually brushed his thumb across her knuckles. When she looked up into his dark eyes, he winked at her. Breathless joy.

After the service, the adults planned to go to the Lynch estate, where Bobby and the two sets of Lynch twins could play in the game room while the adults sipped eggnog and talked quietly in the family room. The Bob-Whites were gathering at Crabapple Farm for their own party.

As they separated into their different cars, Helen Belden called out to her older children, "Don’t forget, kids! We’ll be home around ten-thirty, so Bobby can go to bed so that Santa can come!"

"Hence, we must needs culminate our jubilant yet boisterous festivities by said time," concluded Mart, while, at the same time, Bobby, a smaller version of Mart, complained, "Jeepers! Moms, I’m eleven years old!"

"Well, then, your mother needs to go to bed so Santa can come!" Peter Belden joked as he opened the mini-van’s passenger door for his wife.

"Peter!" Helen admonished, her cheeks a becoming pink.

"What?" he innocently asked. "You don’t want your present?"

"Just get in the van, Peter," responded Helen through her laughter, "And, just so you know, before I can go to bed, I still have to put together the French toast casserole for breakfast tomorrow morning and make that fruit salad you like . . ."

"Okay, kids, let’s go," Peter directed Bobby and the Lynch twins. "We’ve got places to see, things to do," and, for his wife’s ears only, Peter whispered, "People to do . . ." as Helen stretched across the front seat so their lips could meet for a quick kiss.

Walking to the Bob-White station wagon with Trixie and Di, Honey wistfully remarked, "Your parents are still so in love. I want a love just like that."

"Oh, please!" Trixie said impatiently with a toss of her blonde curls. "I’d rather not talk about my parents’ love life. And yours and Di’s parents looked awfully cozy tonight too!"

"I know! Aren’t they cute?" Di giggled as she flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. "Not that I want to imagine my parents that way, mind you! But, you know, Honey, since Brian is Mr. Belden’s son, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about."

Honey blushed and then began to giggle, as well, when Trixie firmly stated, "We are so not going there!"

All three girls were laughing merrily, as they arrived at the old station wagon, and were greeted by Mart who, with a flourish, opened the door of the car, "Ladies, your sleigh awaits."

As if on cue, Trixie gaily sang out as she climbed into the front seat of the car, "‘Sleigh bells ring. Are you listening?’"

"‘In the lane, snow is glistening!’" Honey and Di sang in response.