A/N: For those who celebrate Christmas, I hope you had a wonderful Christmas yesterday! I hope to have a New Year's chapter out next week! Wishing you well and safe during these difficult times. Thank you for reading. :)

You may recognize some content direct from Anne of Green Gables, as well as some content direct from These Happy Golden Years by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Thank you, L.M. and Laura for your beautiful work!

Christmas morning broke on a beautiful white world. A turbulent snowstorm had struck early on Christmas Eve, and many an Island child had feared that Santa Claus might be deterred. But sunshine came with the morning and gifts as well. Gilbert awoke before Anne and, stealthily, he rose from the bed. Anne slept unaware as Gilbert dressed himself and crept from the room in stocking feet. Downstairs, he lit the fire in the parlor, pausing to admire the Christmas tree. He and Anne had gone into the woods a couple of days prior to find and chop a tree. Now a proud little pine stood in the corner, merrily bedecked with ribbons and trinkets.

In the kitchen, he lit the stove, filled the tea kettle, and began to assemble a breakfast tray. Mini mince pies, baked the day before, slices of fresh bread, a ball of butter, and a jar of the famous Fletcher strawberry preserves were carefully arranged on the tray. While the water heated, he pulled on his boots and went to tend the livestock.

Gilbert's family had reluctantly relinquished tending the livestock the day prior at Gilbert's insistence they have Christmas day without looking after two farm's worth of animals. Their gift had been duly appreciated by the newlyweds, but Gilbert was loath to have his family work so hard for his respite.

Returning to the house with eggs and milk, he found the water boiling. Shortly, he was adding a steeping teapot to the tray with a small pitcher of milk. Finishing up, the tea tray was bursting, but missing something festive. Gilbert remedied this with a few sprigs of holly. Satisfied with the tray, Gilbert located the little box that held his Christmas gift for Anne. Tied with a red ribbon, it was 'holidayish' as Anne would say, but Gilbert worried for a moment. It had been purchased on credit. Would she like it? He sighed. Then squaring his shoulders, he lifted the tray and carried it up the stairs.

In the bedroom, Anne was sitting up in bed, wearing her dressing gown. In her hands was a wrapped parcel. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the tray.

"You dear, dear man!" she cried as he set the tray down on the bed beside her.

Gilbert leaned toward her to accept her delighted kiss. "Merry Christmas," he murmured.

"Merry Christmas!" she replied and kissed him again.

"Is this for me?" said Gilbert with a nod to the gift in her lap.

"It is indeedy," said Anne. "But you will have to wait until I partake of this splendid breakfast tray." She picked up the teapot then saw the little box. Gilbert laughed as she set down the teapot in favor of the box.

"I thought we were having breakfast first?" teased Gilbert.

Anne put her nose in the air but did not deign to reply. Gilbert laughed.

"Open it," he told her, his heart twisting nervously.

Anne smiled, untying the red ribbon bow and lifting the lid. "Oh, Gil."

There in a nest of soft white cotton lay a gold bar pin. On its flat surface was etched a little house, and before it along the bar lay a tiny lake with trees. "It's beautiful," she breathed. "Thank you!"

Relief suffused him and reignited his playfulness. "Can't you thank a fellow better than that?" he teased, and then he put his arms around her while Anne kissed him.

"It reminds me of our house, the Haunted Wood, and the Lake of Shining Waters," said Anne when they broke apart. She bent to study the pin more closely.

Gilbert's heart sang. "That's what I thought," he told her. He gently pushed aside the tray to climb on the bed. Sitting above the covers, he crossed his feet and wrapped an arm around Anne. "May I have my gift now?" he grinned.

"Oh, I suppose," said Anne loftily, grinning back. She handed him the gift. Wrapped in brown paper and held together with a red ribbon, the parcel was lumpy. Anne had tucked a fresh bit of pine in the bow that smelled delightfully Christmassy. Gilbert gently untied the ribbon and set aside the greenery to unwrap the brown paper. A soft bundle of red knitting rolled onto his lap. Unfolding the soft folds revealed a red knit scarf, mittens, and hat. And then within the very middle of the bundle was a wooden stamp.

"It's our address," said Anne as Gilbert picked it up.

"Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert Blythe," said Gilbert, making out the first backwards line of the stamp. His heart swelled with emotion. "Oh, Anne, this is wonderful."

Anne beamed. "I knitted everything from this lovely yarn I found in Kingsport. I just knew it was meant for you. And then I had the stamp made in Charlottetown just before our wedding. It'll help with our correspondence now."

"That it will," said Gilbert, pulling her close for a kiss. "Thank you, darling."

Gift-giving completed, the two snuggled close to enjoy the breakfast tray. Gilbert tugged off his trousers and climbed beneath the covers in his undergarments as Anne giggled. "A week of marriage, and I'm already accustomed to such displays," she quipped.

Gilbert chuckled and gave her a kiss. "I think I could use some more displays," he said innocently.

Anne scoffed. "Not at the moment, you won't. It's far too cold. I'm chilly enough in my robe." As Anne buttered a piece of bread, she asked, "We're still having breakfast at Green Gables, aren't we?"

"Yes," said Gilbert thickly through a bite of mince pie. He swallowed. "But that isn't for two hours yet, and I'm hungry."

Anne laughed. "You're always hungry."

"That's not all I'm hungry for," said Gilbert with a grin.

Anne rolled her eyes but allowed him another kiss. And after a few more bites, she allowed him much more.

A couple of hours later, they were merrily on their way to Green Gables for a Christmas morning spread. The firs in the Haunted Wood were all feathery and wonderful; the birches and wild cherry trees were outlined in pearl; the plowed fields were stretches of snowy dimples; and there was a crisp tang in the air that was glorious. The happy couple held mittened hands as they slowly walked in their snowshoes. Behind Gilbert trailed a new little sled. One that had been made over the past week for a certain harum-scarum. Said harum-scarum was overjoyed as Gilbert and Anne arrived up the front steps of Green Gables.

"Say, Anne, is that for me?" cried Davy as he burst out the front door in his long underwear and bare feet.

"Davy Keith, you get back here!" came Marilla's voice and then Marilla through the doorway to snatch him back inside. "You'll catch your death. Only dressed children may come down the stairs. Run back up this instant and clothe yourself."

"Oh, Marilla, must I?" he pleaded. "These johns are seedingly warm. And all my buttons are done." He gestured to his bottom, where indeed all the buttons securely were fastened.

"This instant, Davy Keith," said Marilla, and Davy sped up the stairs, the sooner to come down them again.

Gilbert and Anne went inside to be met with Rache Lynde's clucking admonishment. "That child. Marilla is too easy on him. I'd have swatted him good for such a display." She looked heavenward as though her eyes might be cleansed from the sight of Davy in his long-johns. Gilbert and Anne shared a glance and a secret smile, thinking of other 'displays.'

Eventually, everyone gathered in the parlor properly clothed to open gifts. Despite being adorned with all the greenery and ribbons from the wedding, Green Gables did not have a Christmas tree, and Gilbert felt some guilt at his not procuring them one. He could have chopped down another when he and Anne had gotten their own. He vowed that he would do so next year. Gifts were handed to one another, lace handkerchiefs with embroidery for Marilla and Rachel, a new apron for Anne, a bowtie for Gilbert. Dora was delighted with her gift of fine fabric and thread and a sewing hoop. Davy could hardly be made to sit still, so Marilla allowed him to go outside. With a whoop, he was out the door.

"That child," Rachel clucked. "You spoil him, Marilla,"

"I do not," replied Marilla firmly. "It's Christmas, and he can hardly enjoy his sled indoors."

Mrs. Rachel huffed, but was placated with a cup of tea.

Davy later came in, beaming and covered in snow, for Christmas breakfast. As they ate, Gilbert looked around the table at his new family and his wife beside him. He had dreamed of this and had doubted. His life had been so different only one Christmas ago. Having already eaten, neither he nor Anne was particularly hungry enough to do justice to the Christmas spread. With Gilbert's appetite, this was hardly noticeable. But as for Anne -

"Anne dearie, you're picking at your plate," scolded Mrs. Rachel. "Don't tell me you're with child already."

Anne flushed hotly but bestowed an icy glare on Mrs. Lynde. "Gilbert made us a breakfast tray earlier."

"What does 'with child' mean?" asked Davy. "I want to know."

"What it sounds like," huffed Rachel.

While Davy puzzled this, breakfast was tidied up, and warm things put on. The family left Green Gables for the Christmas day service at the Avonlea church. Upon arrival, Gilbert and Anne discovered that Mrs. Rachel Lynde's earlier accusation was not only on the old matron's mind. The churchyard was filled with speculation about Anne's condition, and Anne nearly fled into the church - with Gilbert on her heels - to escape the piercing gazes.

As the church organ began to play and singing filled the church, Gilbert recalled his warning to Anne that people would talk when they wed earlier than planned. Her firm "people will always talk" was likely true, but speaking of it theoretically and living it were two very different experiences.

Despite her embarrassed red cheeks, Anne held her head high, singing with the congregation. Gilbert clasped her hand. It was wrong for her to bear this speculation alone, but such was the way of things. Any hard stares directed their way were met with one in return from him, until few dared to look. When the service ended, Gilbert was grateful to see Diana coming their way to embrace Anne with a cheery "Merry Christmas!" Fred soon made his way over, as well as the Fletchers and Edie until Anne and Gilbert had a bulwark of friends and family between them and the rampant rumors. The Green Gables folks wished them well, and the newly married couple left the church with the Fletchers and Edie for Christmas dinner.

The Fletcher house had an enormous tree jammed into the corner of the parlor. It was a Fletcher family tradition to choose a large tree, one that often had to be cut back or contorted in some manner in order to fit inside. The home smelled wonderfully of baked ham and strawberry pies. Cats milled around, sniffing their air and mewing. In the parlor, the family exchanged handmade gifts. Mulberry candles, velvet ribbons, wood carvings, and even a prize-laying hen. Then they all gathered around the dining table to partake of ham, creamy mashed potatoes, fresh hot rolls, and strawberry pie.

"It was an excellent strawberry harvest this year," said George, over his third slice of pie. "More bushels than last year, and the berries are sweeter. Must have been more sun this summer past."

Gilbert nodded in agreement, also accepting a third slice from his beaming aunt, while Anne marveled at their appetite. Gilbert really could eat enough pie to satisfy any baker.

"Planning any new garden for this year?" asked Edie.

"New garden?" asked Gilbert, perplexed.

"For your bride," said Edie, smiling at Anne.

"I'd love that, said Anne. "A flower garden would be lovely."

"Indeed," said Kitty. "I have some seed packets from Charlottetown I could share with you."

"I'd be grateful!" Anne replied.

Over cups of tea, the family went into the parlor to play charades. Anne stood on her tiptoes to whisper in Gilbert's ear. Gilbert, thrilling to her touch, pulled her against him to hear, "It is wonderful to feel so loved by your family."

His heart swelled with emotion, and he pressed a quick kiss to her temple before sitting upon the old armchairs in the parlor. She was so resilient, he thought as the game began and Anne rose to take her turn. She expected so little from others, that the judgement from Mrs. Lynde or the churchgoers was expected. He loved her tenacity in the face of adversity, but his heart sank at the struggles she had faced since she was an infant. His misfortunes paled compared to hers.

Anne mimed long ears from the top of her head, and Gilbert came out of his somber reverie with a chuckle. Then she pranced across the parlor like the woodsprite she was, warming his heart. His family loved the performance, and Gilbert was glad that Anne had found another home with his relatives.

Anne's team won handily with her impression of A Midsummer Night's Dream, after which a thick snowfall began. Deciding to return home before the storm worsened, Anne and Gilbert bid good day to Edie and the Fletchers, and went out into the swirling snowflakes. They walked along slowly in their snowshoes, finding their way. Gilbert held Anne's hand, affectionately pulling her along through the thick snow. At one point, Anne stopped and did not continue at Gilbert's gentle tug. He looked over his shoulder to see Anne gazing through the trees. They stood upon the crest of a hill, Avonlea stretched out before them. Distant flickering lights could be seen through the falling snow, and Anne looked towards a part of Avonlea where no such light was to be seen, the churchyard cemetery. Gilbert's heart clenched.

"It's the first Christmas without Matthew," said Anne softly. Snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and brows. A cold tear slipped down her cheek. "Without Ruby."

"Anne-girl," Gilbert said gently, squeezing her hand. He went to her and put his arm around her.

Anne brushed away her tears. "I thought it would be so hard to get through the first Christmas without him. And to think of Ruby cold in her grave, when she should be alive and bright and celebrating." She stifled a sob. Gilbert held her tighter. "Instead, I was consumed with what others thought of me, so much so that I scarcely remembered that dread of Christmas without Matthew. With Ruby gone. I was in church just beside their graves, and all I could think about was me." She sighed. "I'm ashamed of myself."

"Don't," said Gilbert. "Don't do that. Neither Matthew nor Ruby would want you to dwell on the sadness of their passing. Matthew would want you to find joy in your family, and Ruby would want you to celebrate as much as she would have. There would be no better way to honor Ruby with a celebration and fun. You know that."

Anne sighed again. "I don't know."

"Anne," said Gilbert. "You of all people knew Matthew's shyness. He would understand the worry of what others thought. Don't be ashamed. It's those that judge who should be ashamed of themselves."

"I guess so," said Anne.

"I know so," assured Gilbert.

"Thank you," she said softly, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Together, they held one another, gazing out on Avonlea through the clouds of snowflakes, finding solace and strength in one another. A first Christmas for them, in ways both joyful and sad.