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For a short while Sybil had wondered if she'd even be able to leave her apartment on the Christmas Eve, the snow coming in droves the day before. But it had tapered off through the night, and on the 24th the roads and footpaths were all clear of it. She'd bundled up to meet Henri at the Soup Kitchen, their time there passing quickly. A few hours of ladeling soup, serving up rolls, and handing over baskets of canned goods and gifts for the children, and she honestly felt as if she'd done something to help those who needed it. It wasn't enough, the simple giving of food only a bandage on the wound. But it was what they could manage today, though she finds herself more determined to contribute more to Darrow in the coming year.

It's perhaps an appropriate mood for going to mass. She's never been to a Catholic Church before, and it seems rather disappointing in the end. In English just as any service she was used to, but with a dreadful number of candles it seems to her. Overall she finds lttle different, refusing communion as the entire idea of transubstantiation seems suspect, but enjoyable nontheless. It's nicer to have Henri to share it with, even if he seems somber at some points of the night.

When they leave it's nearly one in the morning, truly Christmas day. It's snowing again and as she slips her arm through his offered one, Sybil looks up to him contentedly. "Happy Christmas."
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Sybil Crawley

January 2016

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