Katniss' POV:

I pull down my daughter's pink coat from the hall closet and pass it down to her and then do the same for my son except his coat is blue. Our coats are very thick especially during the winter. Peeta comes up behind me and grabs his coat. I grab my daughter's hand and unlock the front door to our home. We process outside on Christmas day, helping the kids down the stairs and through the layers of snow that have coated the sidewalks.

We approach the old Justice Building, which is now a community hall. This year, we gather together to celebrate. Luckily, we don't leave too far away and the walk is short. We help them up the stairs again and then into the lobby. Inside, they have lit up the fireplace, set up a Christmas tree and a manager, and a chair where Santa is sitting, a line of eager kids in front of him. They did quite a nice job.

The kids run across the lobby and get in line for Santa and we let them go. We'll be back to take pictures. I turn and look at Peeta and we both look up at the same time; mistletoe. I lay my hand on his chest as we kiss.

"Merry Christmas," he says. I smile.

"Merry Christmas, Peeta," I respond. We start catching up with other people and filling up with hot cocoa. By the time we are done with what the kids would've called boring, they are the next in line. We walk over and Peeta pulls his camera out of his pocket. He still loves to draw, but this way he has better memory of what it looked like. I watch between his snapping pictures and the kids' faces being lit up. When they are done, they are given a candy cane.

They stay with us for a while, introducing us to their friends, and sharing stories as we walk. We look at the Christmas tree which stays traditionally decorated with cranberries, popcorn, and wooden carved animals. The manger is also lit up, producing a brilliant glow, along with making the area seem even more special. I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around.

"Johanna! Merry Christmas!" I greet her, pulling her in for a hug. She is wearing a long black coat but 7 is colder than 12.

"Merry Christmas, Johanna! When did you get here?" Peeta asks.

"A few minutes ago. I took a train. It was hard to find you, but I followed the smell of cookies," she explains.

"What about 7?" Peeta asks, always caring.

"Our main celebration is on January 7th. I'll be back in plenty of time," she assures him. She crouches down to our kids.

"Hello, you two. Merry Christmas!" She greets them and stands back up.

"They certainly are very cute." Peeta hands her a cup of hot chocolate. She nods in thanks.

"What's going on with you?" I ask her. She takes a sip out of the mug.

"I've been between 7 and the Capitol a lot. My assistant is getting married so I've being helping, slightly unwillingly though," she lets us know. That sounds exactly like her.

"Want a picture?" a man asks us. He holds one of those cameras that print after you take the photo.

"Sure," Peeta says. Johanna steps back and lets us take a family picture, but we wave her back in and take some with her, then just the kids, then her with the kids. They print out and Peeta hands some copies to Johanna and places the others in his coat pocket.

This is the perfect Christmas. Family, friends, peace, and everything that Christmas should be.

I hope you enjoyed this miniseries, and if you haven't yet, I have some other Hunger Games stories. Make sure to review and I thank you all (my wonderful readers) for celebrating Christmas with me and Panem. Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and a happy new year