A few days later, Sigismund returned the videos he had borrowed. As he left the library, he heard a familiar voice. "We meet again, Becky Rosen said, crossing the street. "You seem to be interested in the wreath on my front door. Don't they have wreaths where you come from?"

"They do, but most are dark green. A few are red or gold. But yours is the first light green one I've seen."

"It blends in with the rest of my house. I don't like things that stick out like sore thumbs."

"Yes, it does blend in. Was the house light green when you moved in, or did you repaint it?"

"My husband and I agree that light green is the best color. If you ever see the interior, you'll see more light green. By the way, isn't it a little early for you to be dressed like Santa?" She playfully
grabbed the tassel of the Santa hat he was wearing.

"Oh, that. Today is December 6, the feast day of Saint Nicholas. It's also my birthday. Can I help it if feel a certain kinship with him?"

"If I'd known that, I'd have baked you a cake."

"Lanny is treating me to dinner at Tiger's lady tonight -- assuming that they don't botch the reservation. Last year, they had us down as twelve reindeer."

"Forgive me for breaking your bubble, but isn't Dec. 6 the day Saint Nicholas died?"

"I'll take any association I can get. They say he was a thoroughly kind and generous man. I wish I were a reborn version of him, but I'm afraid I fall short of the mark."

"Nonsense. I say a celebration is in order. Come over to my house right now. I always leave cookies for Santa, but now I can watch him eat them. Just remember that there is a *lot* of light green inside."

There was a dusting of snow on the road, but it took only three or four steps to get past it. Then Becky opened the door and ushered him in.

Paulh

08.05.23 Front Page

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