Auntie looked away from the cozy interior. The couple within had made a show of merriness, although her heart told her differently. They desired the one thing that they had trouble creating more than any of the gifts piled under the tree. She trudged through the snow to a pristine bank, flakes whirling around her and glittering in the flickering lights on the Wilsons’ house. With a grin, Auntie began rolling balls of snow. She hummed as she worked, sculpting a form and smoothing edges.
Auntie held the object she made, cradled in one arm as she removed her shawl. She wrapped it in the embroidered red wool, snug as a babe, and kissed the bared bit of snow. Words whispered tumbled from her lips, the magic light on her tongue. Crying, the snow sculpture was born. Auntie peered into the rosy-cheeked face with joy, admiring her work.
“Shush now, love,” she said, cooing to the infant as she ambled to the Wilson’s front door. “They’ll give you their hearts, I promise and a better home you’ll never find.”
Auntie placed the bundle upon the doorstep and rang the bell. She faded into the shadows as the door opened. The warmth of answering a Christmas miracle flooded her.
“Where did she come from?” Jason asked.
“It doesn’t matter.” Mara’s gaze didn’t leave the cherub in her arms.
Auntie’s laughter mingled with the wind. She hefted her bag, slinging it over her shoulder and began her journey once more.