Outside, snow was falling, an odd event for a New York Christmas. I went to the window, stunned by the day’s miracle. Christmas trees blurred softly across the street, and firelight made the children’s shadows dance on the wall beside me. A full, fair chance for a new life. Not given me by an act of generosity, but by an act of love. Our faith in you was really all I had heard them say. I would do my best not to fail them. Snow still fell on the pavement below. Brownstone roofs gradually whitened. Lights in distant skyscrapers shone with yellow symbols of a road’s lonely end, and as I stood at the window, looking at the lights and the snow, the ache of an old memory left me for ever.
By Harper Lee, this story was first published in McCall’s magazine in the December 1961 issue, titled Christmas To Me.
Not sure where this picture was taken, but I love it. The ladies in their coats and hats and gloves. The street decorations are so wholesome, and it feels like snow is on the way, somehow, doesn't it? I wonder what the photographer was doing?
I love this photo, too. It was captioned Mistletoe Sellers in France. Perhaps they would sell people a snippet to put over their door? Do they kiss under the mistletoe in France? I suppose they do... noël amour.
Came across this Christmas card with my dad (on the right) and his brothers, David and Mike (upside down). Everyone sends photo cards now, but I think Grandma was a bit ahead of her time to do so in the 50's.....
Carry on everyone--the season is fast upon us!