“God rest ye merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay!”

Our song sounded small and ragged. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that my fellow carolers were yards behind me, straggling up our neighbor’s driveway. Only my extroverted daughter, eager to deliver the pumpkin bread we had baked, stood with me at the door.

“Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day!” I continued, gesturing for the others to come closer. They did, reluctantly, just as our ninety-year-old neighbor opened the door. Her vision was failing and she didn’t recognize us at first, but as we started the second verse, she smiled and began to hum along. My daughter gave her a loaf of pumpkin bread, and we turned back to the street, looking for the next house with a porch light on.

“This is so weird!” my four-year-old son shouted gleefully as we continued along the darkened street.