“ ‘…And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.’ ” Da’s voice rang with conviction as he read the Christmas story. “ ‘For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.’ Luke, chapter 2, verses 10 to 14.” He reverently shut the family Bible.
Rosalind blinked, trying to clear the tears from her eyes. The wonder of that scene—the majesty of a newborn king come to save all men.
Jesus, You are so good to us. You sacrificed Your splendor to be born a man, and we did not appreciate it. The Prince of Heaven offered a manger. Each time I hear the words, I marvel at Your greatness—the most powerful of all brought to us as a helpless babe. I struggle with pride, yet Your example shows the meaning of true humility. Thank You for Your loving grace, which brings us such undeserved joy.
Her tears stopped, and she found Ewan watching her, his own face shining with the light of love.
“We’ve so many blessings to be thankful for this Christmas,” he said. “Christ’s own love is mirrored at this hearth. ’Tis been many a year since I took part in such a celebration.”
“We’re glad to have you, Ewan.” Rosalind stood and walked over to place a hand on his shoulder. His joy had been mixed with such wistfulness, she wanted to brush away the sorrow. “Shall we sing a few Christmas carols?”
“ ’Tis been too long since I heard the Irish Christmas Carol.” Ewan looked around hopefully. “Do you all know it?”
“Of course!” Luke hummed the tune. “ ’Tis Grandmam’s favorite.”
“Aye, ’tis.” Grandmam rocked back, smiling in remembrance and anticipation. “Why don’t you start it for us, Mr. Gailbraith?”
“I’d be honored.” Ewan cleared his throat and broke into the melody, his rich baritone flowing over the words as everyone joined in.
“Christmas day is come; let’s all prepare for mirth,
Which fills the heav’ns and earth at this amazing birth.
Through both the joyous angels in strife and hurry fly,
with glory and hosannas, All Holy’ do they cry…”
Rosalind closed her eyes and let the song wash over her. My family is well, Ewan is wi’ us, and we’re celebrating the Lord’s birth. What could be better?
When the final note quavered in the air, she opened her eyes. “Any other favorites?”
And so they praised the night away, singing beloved hymns such as “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” “Angels, from the Realms of Glory,” and “Joy to the World.”
When the candles guttered, eyelids drooped, and stomachs groaned with satisfaction, Ewan rose from the settle. “Will you walk wi’ me a wee while?”
Rosalind looked to Da for permission. At his short nod, she swirled her thick cloak over her shoulders and stepped into the night with Ewan. Only a single candle and the light from the heavens illuminated their path. Rosalind could see her breaths coming in little white puffs of the frigid night air as he pulled her close.
“Ewan, why are we stopping?” Rosalind stamped her feet to warm them as he set the candle on a sturdy log and took both her hands in his own. A curious warmth suddenly took away the chill.
“Rosalind,” he began, “there is an old Irish marriage blessing. Do you know it?”
“Nay.” Rosalind fixed her gaze upon him, understanding his purpose in bringing her outside. They were alone, under the stars, and he spoke of marriage!
She didn’t dare breathe as he recited the blessing:
“May God be wi’ you and bless you.
May you see your children’s children.
May you be poor in misfortunes
and rich in blessings.
May you know nothing but happiness
from this day forward.”
He paused, giving her time to savor the sweetness of the words. “Rosalind, God has blessed me simply by letting me know you.” He sank to his knees, still clasping her hands. “I love you. Will you make me rich in His blessings and bring me even more happiness by saying you’ll wed me?”
Tears streaked down her face as Rosalind let out the breath she’d been holding to kneel in front of him. “Yes, Ewan. Oh yes!” She threw her arms around him and sank into his warm embrace as his lips sought her own.
He pulled away a short while later and fumbled in his coat pocket. “Here.” He held up a small, carved box, dwarfed by his palm.
Rosalind took it and opened the lid to find a simple gold band inside. She gasped as he drew it out and slid it onto her left ring finger.
“ ’Twas my mother’s.” His hoarse whisper made her realize his eyes shone with unshed tears. “ ’Tis all I hae left o’ her, and I know she’d smile to see the beautiful bride I’ve given it to.”
“And I’m proud to wear it,” she whispered. “I love you, Ewan Gailbraith.”