He wondered how much of his life he had spent waiting for the world to become easier before he allowed himself to be generous.
The thought stayed with him long after the fire had burned low.
On Christmas Eve, the children woke before dawn.
Samuel came downstairs first, determined to help his father find a Christmas tree. Grace followed him, wearing a dress that had belonged to Sarah, with the hem pinned up so it would not drag across the floor. Ruth appeared last, carrying her wooden spoon and a small scrap of blue ribbon she had found beneath her pillow.
“Is it Christmas?” she asked.
“Not quite,” Caleb said.
Ruth frowned.
“But the sun is up.”
“Christmas doesn't depend on the sun.”
“Then what does it depend on?”
Caleb looked at Adeline, who was standing near the stove.
She smiled.
“On the calendar, mostly.”
Ruth considered this with deep suspicion.
“Who made the calendar?”
“People who needed to know what day it was,” Samuel said.
“Why?”
“So they could know when Christmas was.”
Ruth looked as though this explanation had only created more problems.
Caleb laughed and reached for his coat.
“Come along. If we're going to find a tree, we'd better start before the snow begins again.”
He took Samuel and Grace with him, leaving Ruth with Adeline. The youngest child was still too small to travel safely through the deeper drifts, and Caleb promised they would bring her something special from the woods.
The three of them rode out in the wagon, following a narrow track between the pines. The snow glittered beneath the morning sun, and the horses moved slowly through the frozen ruts.
Caleb had not gone looking for a Christmas tree since Sarah died.
He had almost abandoned the tradition entirely, telling himself the children were too young to remember the difference and that there were more important matters to attend to. But when he saw Grace leaning forward on the wagon seat, her eyes bright with anticipation, he understood that the tree had never been about decoration.
It had been about making the world feel dependable.
They found a small evergreen growing beside a cluster of rocks, its branches heavy with snow. Samuel wanted a taller one, but Caleb shook his head.
“This one's healthy, and we can carry it without breaking half the branches.”
Grace circled the tree.
“It's perfect.”
Samuel examined it critically.
“It's a little crooked.”
“Most things worth keeping are,” Caleb replied.