See Amid the Winter's Snow


Author's Notes/Disclaimer: The characters of Myles and Anne Leland appear courtesy of Pebblehut Productions and Paxson Entertainment. The rest are my own creation.


See amid the winter's snow,
born for us on earth below,
see, the gentle Lamb appears,
promised from eternal years.

The old carol on the CD player matched the weather perfectly, except that it was very hard to see anything amid this winter snowstorm. Planes were grounded, trains delayed, and traffic crept along at a snail's pace. The only thing gentle about the evening was the warmth inside the car.

Smiling apologetically, the driver turned to his companion and said, "Sorry, Sis. I guess Boston will have to wait."

Anne Leland tilted her head slightly and smiled at her brother. "Promise you won't tell Mum and Dad I'm not really that disappointed?"

Myles chuckled sympathetically, squeezing her hand. "You haven't filled me in on the last stretch you were up there. That bad, huh?"

The younger woman rested her head in her hand, her elbow propped where the car window met the door. "Did I suddenly regress to ten years old again?" she sighed.

"That bad." He breathed in a sigh. "Well, no sense sitting here using up the gas. You can tell me all about it inside." They'd finally given up near Penn Station in Baltimore; though the trains were stopped now as well, it was warm and dry, and he felt better knowing she wasn't going to be here by herself.


Anne's eyes widened at the expressions on the faces they passed as they made their way into the station; it was a low-income area, and there were apparently a great many homeless as well. They were huddled in doorways, under any form of shelter from the stinging sleet, or making their way toward the station as well. Hard, tired eyes stared back at her, almost in accusation at the sight of her warm coat and fur-lined gloves.

Inside the cavernous station, the situation wasn't much better. Stranded travelers were spread out all over the place, many grumbling at their fate. Myles found a couple of seats in one of the side waiting areas, got his sister settled, and went to find some coffee for them both, shooting glares at a few of the hopeful looks coming from several men around. He didn't think they were looking for more than money, but he'd make sure they knew to leave her be while he was gone.

As Anne sat there, waiting, she noticed a small child, perhaps five years old, near the vending machines. A little girl with long dark hair, well-combed but unadorned, was pressing her nose against the glass of one of the machines. Her coat was worn thin, and there were holes in her mittens. Anne glanced around, but saw no one who seemed to be with her.

A year ago, she would have turned away; it had never been her thing to contemplate the circumstances others found themselves in. In fact, she'd probably have moved to another area, just to avoid it. But the last few months had been eye-opening, in more ways than simply losing her career and finding her brother.

"Hi."

She glanced up to see bright blue eyes staring at her. "Hi," she replied, reaching for her purse. "I suppose you're looking for some money for the machine, huh?"

The little girl shook her head. "Oh, no. Mommy says it's not nice to ask for help for stuff we don't really need. Besides, I just like the bright colors anyway. Mommy's pumpkin cookies are lots better." She tilted her head, surveying the woman with solemn eyes. "You look sad. Are you lost here for Christmas, instead of with your family?"

Anne's delicate brows raised; then she smiled at the girl. "Well, I was supposed to go to Boston, but my brother is here with me. So I guess I'm not really lost, huh?"

The little girl grinned. "I have a brother, too. He's littler. Is your brother littler?"

"No," Anne laughed softly. "He's my big brother."

A wrinkled nose was the response. "My big brother thinks he knows everything, and he bosses me around. He's a pain, but I still love him."

"Are you traveling to see family?"

Dark hair bounced as she shook her head. "Nope. We just came in here to get warm. Mommy's working tonight, and Yan said we should stay dry. He left a note for Mommy."

"Yan?" She was drawn to this child somehow. "Your father?"

"Uh-uh. Yan's my big brother. Daddy left a long time ago. That's why Mommy's working." The girl glanced at the seat next to Anne. "Can I sit with you for awhile? Yan and my little brother went to find us something to eat, and I don't really like being here by myself."

"Sure." Anne settled back in her seat as the girl climbed up next to her. "What's your name?"

Blue eyes clouded over. "Mommy says I shouldn't tell strangers my name."

"Oh. Well, I think your Mommy is very wise." Did Mum ever tell me anything like that, anything that let me know she was concerned about me being safe? She couldn't recall.

The little girl was watching her again. "How about I make up a name you can call me? Then we can be friends, and I'm not disobeying Mommy."

"Ok," Anne replied. "Do you want to know my real name, or should I make one up, too?"

"You can use your real name, if you want." The blue eyes looked sad for a minute. "Grownups forget how to play make-believe."

No, they just get better at it. Anne smiled at the girl. "My name is Anne."

"Oooh – just like the girl from Green Gables!" The little girl grinned. "Mommy used to read that to me."

"That's right. And what name may I call you?"

She thought hard for a moment. "You can call me Sally," she said finally. "She's my favorite Snoopy character."

Anne laughed. "Sally, then." She held out her hand. "It's very nice to meet you, Sally."

Sally shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Anne. Now we're friends for Christmas."


"Anne."

She looked up to see Myles standing there, two lattes and a pastry bag in his hands. "Hi, big brother."

"Could I speak to you for a moment?"

She leaned over to Sally, a twinkle in her eye. "When he gives me that look, I'd better find out what he has to say. Will you excuse me for just a moment?"

"Sure." Sally eyed the newcomer for a second. "He looks like Yan does when I'm in trouble, a little."

Myles couldn't help but laugh softly. "I promise you, she's not in trouble. I just need to talk to her for a minute."

"Ok. I'll make sure your stuff stays safe." She settled down in her seat, placing a protective arm on Anne's coat, which was laid over the arm between their seats.

They stepped over past the vending machines, about ten feet away, and Myles lowered his voice as he leaned toward her. "Anne, you know better. If you give a handout to one, you'll have a crowd inside of ten minutes."

His sister looked up at him. "Myles, I didn't give her anything. I offered, but she refused. We were just talking. Her older brother is looking for something for them to eat. They came in here to get warm and stay dry while their mother is working." She tapped his arm lightly. "And since when have you stopped caring? You used to drive Mum and Dad crazy, handing over birthday money to Sister Camille's orphanage before the adhesive on the envelope had a chance to get humid again."

Blue-grey eyes glanced over to where Sally was reading a full-gown man the riot act for coming too close to their belongings. "I didn't stop caring, Anne. But I realized a long time ago that I can't help everyone. Certainly not on a one-to-one basis. There's just too many. I contribute to several shelters, and two very reputable charity organizations."

"Well, tonight we're in the same boat she is, in a sense," Anne replied. "And I'm not going to let her sit here by herself. I may not be able to help her and her family out of their predicament, but I can be her friend and keep her safe."

Myles gazed at her for a long moment before shifting the items in his hands so he could touch her cheek. "I've missed you, Sis," he whispered proudly. "You're right. We can do that much."

She looked up at him in surprise, then smiled and led him back over to where Sally was sitting. "Sally, this is my big brother, Myles. Do we have room in our Christmas friends group for him, too?"


Two sets of wide eyes approached Sally and the two Lelands as they sat sharing a bagel from the coffee shop. One was a little boy who could have been no more than four; the other boy was older, perhaps ten. His eyes flared as he looked at Sally. "What are you doing, Meg? You know better. Mom said—"

"It's ok, Yan. I didn't ask her for anything, I promise. This is Anne, and her brother Myles. They're my friends for Christmas. They let me sit with them, and I watched their stuff while they talked over there." Sally, whose real name was apparently Meg, pouted a little. "You know I don't like it when I'm in here by myself. They're nice. They just got lost here for Christmas, too."

Yan blew out his breath, and turned to Myles. "Sorry, mister," he started. "My little sister knows she's not supposed to bug people when we're in here."

Meg leaped to her feet and planted her fists on her hips. "I'm not bugging them!"

Myles held up a hand before Yan could take another breath. "She's not bothering us. Really," he said. "She's asked nothing of us, and she was keeping my sister company while I got us some coffee and bagels." He held out the bag to the boys. "You're welcome to join us, if you like."

He didn't have to ask twice; within minutes, Yan and the younger boy, whose name was Chad, were happily through a bagel each and sharing the last one. Meg watched them with a smug expression. "Told you," she said impishly.

"Yeah, yeah." Yan rolled his eyes. "Thanks, mister."

Anne smiled. "'Mister'? You make him sound so dignified." She leaned over to Meg, a mischievous smile on her face. "You should have seen him when I was eight years old and he was ten. My grandmother had just pulled sugar cookies out of the oven and we were going to decorate them. Only, he decided to taste the icing first. It was blue... and so was his tongue. Matched his eyes for a week." She grinned at him. "It was the quietest he'd ever been."

"Anne!" His voice was outraged, but there was a twinkle in his eyes all the same.

Meg hopped down from her seat and walked over to peer into Myles' face. "Your eyes are pretty," she said. "I think it would be cool to have my tongue that color."

She could have melted the coldest heart, and Myles wasn't feeling particularly chilly tonight. He smiled and tapped her on her nose. "I think your eyes are pretty, too."

Yan was making "sick faces." "Meg, give it a rest."

"Oh phooey!" she retorted. "You're just cranky because Mom had to work on Christmas Eve and the wind blew down half the tent and knocked over our tree."

Anne gasped. "You live in a tent? In this weather?"

"It's not that bad," Yan clarified. "It's a real heavy tent; my dad left it behind. We used to go camping a lot. But when the wind blows too hard, part of it falls over because there's nothing to tie it securely to."

"I'm surprised you can leave it at all, in this area," Myles said thoughtfully. "A shelter like that must be a rare commodity."

"There's a guy who watches it for us," Yan replied, his mouth full of the last bite of bagel. "Mom was a little scared of him at first, but he's protected us a lot of times. She cooks for him when there's enough. Payback, kinda."

"Donny even found us a little Christmas tree," Meg added. "Someone chopped it off at one of the tree lots to make room for their big fancy angel, he said. We decorated it with pop tabs, and he cut out a star from one of the cans for the top."

"Dad's camping gear included a little fold-out oven," Yan continued, "so Mom said when she got home tonight we'd make cookies. We've been collecting cans all month to buy one of those packages you slice and bake."

"Wif trees on 'm," Chad piped in.

"Mommy found a job sewing dresses," Meg said. "It's better now that she works. I just miss her on Christmas Eve."

One of the sweatshops around here, no doubt, Myles thought to himself. Pays next to nothing; just enough to keep her coming back.

Anne had tears in her eyes, but managed to keep them from falling. "I bet she misses you on Christmas Eve, too. And baking cookies together sounds like a lot of fun."

"Yannick!"

The three children turned; coming toward them was a young woman, perhaps 30, with the haunted, exhausted expression of someone trying with every ounce of strength they have left to hold their life together.

"Mommy!" Meg and Chad threw themselves into her arms, talking at the same time and practically dragging her to the ground in front of Myles and Anne. A great deal of tickling and giggling took place before they let her up and she realized they weren't alone.

"Oh!" she gasped, her cheeks reddening. "I'm so sorry; I didn't—"

"It's all right," Anne smiled. "Your children have been keeping us company tonight."

Myles was expecting the reaction she gave. Her brows lowered, and she spun to face the children. "How many times have I told you not to ask for—?"

He stood and very lightly touched her shoulder for a split-second. "Ma'am, they asked nothing from us. Meg happened to strike up a conversation with my sister, and we've actually been having a much better evening than if we'd simply been stuck waiting for the weather to clear." He paused as her eyes narrowed at him. "It's the truth. We shared a few bagels, that's all, and kept an eye on each other."

"Please join us for a little while," Anne invited. "You look like you could use a cup of coffee."

The woman reared back a little. "I… thank you, but I promised the kids—"

"Cookies. Yes, Meg told us. Now, don't worry," Anne said, holding up a hand. "Meg didn't just march right up and introduce herself. In fact, I had hoped to find some way to tell you what wonderful children you're raising. They've been most cautious, and respectful of you even in your absence, and you should be very proud of them."

"Anne said I could make up a name for her to call me, so I picked Sally because of Snoopy, and everything was just fine until Yan started yelling my name across the room." Meg paused just long enough for a breath. "Please, Mommy. Can't we stay just a few more minutes? The corner of the tent blew down again anyway, so there's no room to use the oven until we set it back up."

"Donny was gonna try to piece together a weight to tie the rope to, Mom," Yannick added. "He said it might take a couple hours."

The woman's face was scarlet now, as she kept shooting glances at Myles and Anne. It was obvious she wasn't comfortable with these two, obviously well-off, strangers knowing her predicament. But Anne reached over and patted her hand.

"It won't hurt you or them to stay out of the storm for a little longer," she said soothingly. "And I can't think of a better way to repay you for our delightful company tonight than to buy you a cup of coffee. At least, no better way that I think you might accept on five minutes' acquaintance."

Meg leaned over to Myles and whispered loudly. "I heard Mommy this morning saying she'd kill for a cinnamon latte." Her brows furrowed. "What's a latte?"

He chuckled as the young mother spread her hands and looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. "Something I think your mother could definitely use right now."


Anne slipped a small white card, with her phone number, address and email, into the young mother's hand as she gathered her children together. They'd managed to gently draw the whole story out of the family as they shared coffee (with chocolate milk for the kids as a treat) and oatmeal cookies from the vending machine. "Kara, just as soon as I get settled back in Reston, I will let you know the details. I think we can make this work."

Kara was still shaking her head. "You barely know me, met me only because my kids came in out of the storm that blocked your car trip to Boston, and now you're going to help me start a business. I don't know what to say. Part of me is still saying it's a dream and I'm going to wake up and you'll have never existed."

"You just go bake those tree cookies with your children," Anne smiled. "And celebrate the fact that soon your tent will be back to camping gear only." She squeezed the younger woman's arm. "You have no idea how grand a Christmas present you've given us tonight. Maybe someday I'll explain."

Tears coursed down Kara's cheeks. "Thank you. I— you're a miracle!" She threw her arms around Anne and hugged her tightly. Then she reached a hand toward Myles as well. "Both of you. Thank you."

Meg tossed decorum to the wind and jumped from the bench into Myles' arms so fast he almost didn't have time to react. Then she planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Christmas friends!" she hollered as she wiggled down. And they were gone, chattering away happily as they walked back out into the snow.

"Sis…" He sat down again, shaking his head.

"What? You're not going to pull a 'Mum and Dad' on me and tell me I'm grasping at straws, and rubbish ones at that?" She straightened and folded her arms, glaring down at him. "Because let me tell you—"

"Anne." He was laughing softly. "All I was going to say was that when you finally decide to pull your life back together, you don't fool around." He held out a hand to her; when she took it, he pulled her down next to him and put his arm around her. "I think it's a wonderful thing you're doing for Kara, and if anyone can make it work, you two can."

"Oh." Completely derailed, she smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Tell me something, Myles; can you remember our family ever having that much fun over the prospect of something as simple as baking cookies?"

"Did we ever bake our own?"

She sighed. "Only at Grandmother's, and only before Mum came into the kitchen that one time and saw us covered in flour. That kind of killed it."

"Ah, yes." He chuckled softly. Y'know," he said, leaning his cheek on her hair, "I bet Cook would let us into the kitchen tomorrow afternoon, or whenever we get up there. Think we can spring for a package of 'slice & bake'?"

Anne shook her head. "No way. From scratch, in honor of Kara's soon-to-be new kitchen. In fact, from Grandmother's old cookbook. It's just been sitting there collecting dust."

"Instead of flour, as it should." He surprised her by placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Merry Christmas, Sis."

She smiled, and snuggled closer to her 'big brother'. "Merry Christmas."

FINIS