When the twilight hour is sparkling
And the city's all aglow,
Come with me, my darling
To the place we love to go.

The first stars shimmer above the back fields at Addison's Hampton house and Katya peeks her rosy little face through the side fanlight, pressing her nose eagerly against the glass. "We go? Go?" Her voice is anxious, full of suppressed excitement, and Addison can't help but smile.

"Come here and let me tie your scarf, sweetie." She wraps the wool around her adopted daughter's little face, smiling at the bright blue eyes shining at her over the pink-and-white mask. Naomi comes up behind Addison and fits matching mittens over Katya's hands. "You'd better bring her in when it gets too cold. It's getting late, too, Addie."

"Nae. Trust that I know how long to keep her out." Addison grimaces playfully at Naomi and isn't surprised when the other woman leans forward to kiss her. Kissing Naomi is better than kissing anyone else – her lips are soft; she tastes like candy canes, and it's easy to get lost in her depthless brown eyes; well, that is, until little Katya tugs on Addison's white coat. "Kiss? Kiss?"

Addison lifts the little one into her arms and smiles. "Okay, kiss." She and Naomi kiss Katya on her cheeks, one on each side, and the little girl giggles. "Mama kiss!"

"It is a Mama kiss," says Naomi, and straightens the baby's toque. "Okay, go have fun in the snow."

Addison swings open the door and a slight blast of cold air whisks past everyone's feet. The moon is just rising and the snow crunches under her feet as she lifts Katya over the drifts and sets her down on the soft white lawn.

When the frost's upon the window,
There's a tingle in your toes,
To the fields of virgin white
For angels in the snow.

It's a quiet evening; one of those hushed clear nights where the snow muffles all sound. There's a cardinal on the tree and Katya falls so many times that she doesn't notice it until Addison picks her up, snowsuited little form and trailing mittens, and points out the red bird. "See, Katya; see the cardinal?"

"Bird," Katya pronounces. At almost three, she's just where she should be for a child adopted from a different country. Addison's just glad she's talking at all; they went months without Katya saying much more than one word at a time. Now, she babbles and laughs and points at things, clinging to Addison's hand and turning her bright eyes up at everything her adopted mother has to say.

Lying on the frozen ground,
Arms go up and legs go down.
How it looks so perfect
I don't know.

Katya stops and squats in the snow, scooping up a little bit in her exposed little hand and shoving it surreptitiously into her mouth, trying to finish it before Addison can see her. But Addison doesn't mind; sometimes, there's nothing more refreshing than a handful of clean snow.

Addison starts to roll the quickly-packing snow on the ground, making a large snowball and packing it securely. Slowly, a human-shaped form begins to silhouette against the purple sky. Katya stands, confused, for a moment, before she grins and runs over to the lumpy snow figure, scrambling up on it and knocking over Addison's carefully-crafted work.

Addison helps the baby sit up on top of the snow mound and relishes her laughter. "High! Katya high!"

"You're really high," Addison agrees, and holds the little figure to her chest for a moment before letting her slither down the other side of the deformed snowman.

With the snowflakes all around
Feels like heaven's reaching down
To tell us here on earth we're not alone.

Katya goes running in the snow, stumbling down, turning and laughing at her footprints following her. Although the Russian comes less, now, she still calls something out to Addison in her birth language that makes Addison smile, even if she doesn't understand. Addison catches up to her and grabs her, causing the baby to squeal.

They tumble to the ground, and Addison shows Katya how to make a snow angel. It appears, though, that she didn't have to, because the little girl immediately throws herself back into the snow and thrashes about, creating a tiny, messy snow angel. Addison, ever the proud parent, snaps a picture of Katya on her cell phone. Later, when she shows it to Naomi, they both know that it'll be next year's Christmas card.


As the rooftops glisten
And your cheeks turn to rose,
We will lie in wonder
Making angels in the snow.

Suddenly, the light fades from the sky. The moon rises; the fields turn silver-blue, and Katya's teeth start to chatter. Like all little children, she stops playing all at once and stumbles through the churned-up snow to Addison, holding out her arms. "Mama."

"Mama's here," Addison whispers into the whorled little ear, slightly covered by light red hair. She carries Katya home and the baby rests her head on her mother's shoulder. However, she isn't too tired to point at the stars, so bright against the velvet night. "Stars."

"Stars."


The silver moon is shining
On the winter world below.
How she'll smile to see us
Waving our hellos.

Naomi stands at the door and takes the sleepy little girl from Addison's arms. "So you wore her out?"

"Yeah. She sure loves the snow." Addison helps Naomi take off the little snowsuit; pull off the snowy boots. Katya watches, eyes a bit glazed, and then pouts at her mothers. "Cold."

Upstairs in the warm bath, the baby splashes happily as Addison rubs Johnson's bedtime baby shampoo in her hair. "Do you just love the snow, Katya?"

"Love the snow. I want to go tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, Grandma's coming over. You can show her your snow angels." Naomi's parents are coming for Christmas from California, bringing Maya with them.

Addison lifts the chubby baby out of the bathtub, wrapping her warmly in a towel. She lets Katya pick out a pair of one-piece fuzzy flannelette pajamas, and sings a Christmas carol with her as she puts on her diaper. "Jingle bells, jingle bells . . .?"

"Jingle all the way," murmurs Katya and puts a thumb into her mouth. "Sleepy."

Naomi comes up to help tuck Katya in. "Good night, buttercup."

"Snowcup!" insists Katya, and both women laugh. "Okay, snowcup. It's winter time, after all."

They close the door of her room, after leaving the star-shaped nightlight on, and wander down the stairs.

"It's her first Christmas," muses Addison, "but it feels like we've always had her."

"After everything, all the heartache of the past six months, trying to get her used to us, trying to break through the language barrier . . ." Naomi sighs happily. "She's finally so happy and cheerful."

Addison cuddles into Naomi, watching the flames. "Did you ever feel like it was a mistake, helping me adopt her?"

"No."

"Me neither. Look at this." She pulls out her cell phone, showing Naomi the laughing baby in the snow.

"She's beautiful."

"Yeah."

"I love you, you know?"

"I know."


And as each season passes,
I will watch as your wings grow.
I'll always think of you this way,
My angel in the snow.