Blessings of the Season by Annie Jones Page A

top.”
    â€œI have just the thing!” Addie undid the snowflake from her headband. “It’s not very big, but it’s very special. Just like you, Jesse.”
    She clipped the pin to the top of the small tree that was barely as tall as she was, then they all stood back and admired their work. Addie couldn’t help thinking of all the lights and decorations at her mother’s house right now. And how she wouldn’t trade a tenth of them for this corny, cluttered mess of a pink Christmas tree shared with two people who had come to mean so much to her. “You know, I think this is the nicest Christmas tree I’ve ever helped decorate.”
    â€œMe, too,” Nate murmured, coming to her side.
    For just that one moment the world was calm and peaceful and…wonderful. Nothing existed beyond the three of them and their improvised celebration. No jobs. No job interviews. No Goodwin’s. No tomorrows. Just now and each other.
    â€œThis actually is kind of perfect, isn’t it?” Nate asked in a whisper.
    â€œYes.” Addie nodded, her hair rasping against hisshirt. “But the thing about this kind of perfection, the imperfect kind of perfection, is—”
    â€œNow what?” Jesse’s tennis shoe squeaked on the floor as he spun around and started looking around for something more to do.
    â€œIt never lasts,” Addie concluded with a laugh. She moved away from Nate reluctantly and plunked her hand on Jesse’s head to get him to settle down and listen to her. “You know, in my family we didn’t just put up the tree.” Addie took a deep breath, then exhaled to remind herself that the moment had passed and she had it in her to move on. “We also made a big deal of setting up our big outdoor plastic lighted crèche.”
    Nate held his hands out to his side. “I didn’t think to look for one of those.”
    â€œGood thing that in the Goodlife family, the man is not the only provider around.” She gave Jesse a wink. “The box with all the things we made this week is in the cabinet under the fake sink.”
    In a matter of minutes, Nate was sitting cozily on the couch while Jesse and Addie knelt on the rug to better set up the homemade Nativity scene on the coffee table before them.
    â€œIt’s not as showy as the one my mom has, but I like it.” For the past week, Addie had been methodically assembling the pom-pom sheep, thread-spool cows and pinecone angels dipped in glitter with net wings adorned in sequins. There were felt shepherds with yarn hair and beards and that star with the spray-painted macaroni, too.
    One by one they set each piece where Jesse thought they looked best in the Popsicle manger.
    â€œBefore my dad died we used to make a big deal out of the holy family’s spot in the Nativity. We’d read the story out of Luke, then my mom would set Mary in place, my dad Joseph and I’d get to put in baby Jesus.” Addie looked at the last three delicate figures. Made of chenille and sparkling metallic pipe cleaners, they had faces cut from vintage-style Christmas cards. “I still look at our crèche, even in the middle of all the craziness my mom has set up on our front lawn, and I remember that salvation didn’t come to us in a big showy display, but simply and humbly.”
    She carefully placed Joseph and Mary, but when it came time for baby Jesus, she looked at Nate and then offered the small bundle to the little redheaded boy at her elbow. “I think you should do the honors.”
    Jesse took the last figure in the palm of his hand and held it.
    Nate gave the boy a nudge. “Put the baby in the manger, pal.”
    He looked up at Nate and made a sour face. “I get the shepherds because there are sheep and angels because it’s Christmas, but why did they put a baby in a box of hay?”
    Addie and Nate exchanged glances. Then she put her hand on the boy’s