This Jewish girl wanted to get this story finished and posted before Christmas, and she did it! (Just barely.) I couldn't find that the Spanish Christmas tradition Las Posadas is actually practiced in Columbia, so it's probably an anachronism. I hope you all enjoy, and merry Christmas to those who celebrate!

Like everything else, the first Christmas after Casita was rebuilt was different for the Madrigal family. The first sign of this came early that winter, one morning when Alma turned to Isabela during breakfast and said brightly, "Christmas is coming soon. You'll play Maria in Las Posadas again for us, won't y – "

"No, thank you, Abuela," Isabela interrupted, her tone cold but her words carefully polite. "I'm tired of playing Maria."

"Oh, but Isabela..." Alma chuckled a bit, as if her granddaughter was just making a joke, but when nobody else smiled with her, she faltered. "But you've always been such a perf – "

Isabela slammed her glass down on the word. "I said, no thank you, Abuela," she repeated, her words almost a shout now. Before anyone could react, she got up and went upstairs to her room, her long black hair swishing down her back. As she stalked away, the entire family could hear her mutter, "And if I have to hear the word perfect one more time..."

There was a beat of awkward silence at the breakfast table. Julieta glanced at Augustin, then at Bruno, then finally at her mother. "You know, Mama," she spoke up, "I'm sure we can find another Maria for Las Posadas." She smiled down the table at her youngest daughter. "Mirabel, you've never gotten to do it, have you?"

Mirabel's eyes went round with surprise behind her glasses. "M-Me? Play Maria? No, I've never done it."

"You'd be a great Maria, Mirabel!" Antonio piped up immediately, and his enthusiasm was hard to resist. Soon everyone at the table was nodding and agreeing, and if Alma's smile looked just a little unsure, nobody noticed.

From then on, a different Christmas began to take shape. It seemed like a long time since anyone else had been in the village's Las Posadas procession. Dolores had played Maria once, years ago, but after Alma set her sights on Isabela, she wouldn't hear of anyone else doing it. The part had stopped being passed down to younger girls like it was in other villages.

Another tradition of Las Posadas was that Jose was played by the father of the girl playing Maria, but Augustin had only done it for a few years before Alma put an end to that, too. She wanted Camilo to play Jose, and so he did – at yet, he never really did it at all, for he never once played Jose with his own face. Alma insisted that he use his Gift to make his body taller, his face older and more handsome. She even brought a holy icon of Jose home from the church and told her grandson to make himself look just like it.

So year after year, Isabela and Camilo went on playing Maria and Jose, and year after year, their resentment grew. Nowhere in Columbia or Mexico or any place where Los Posadas was practiced were the smiles more forced on Maria and Jose.

There would be no forced smiles this year. Mirabel could hardly believe it – she, the Giftless, overlooked Madrigal grandchild, with the starring role in Los Posadas! She had dreamed of playing Maria when she was little, but it was a dream that she'd long ago given up on. One evening, she was working in the sala, hemming the sarape that she planned to wear as Maria, while Luisa and Antonio sat on the floor, making ramilletes. Luisa was so patient as she showed their little cousin how to bundle the flowers, and watching them, Mirabel suddenly realized that while Dolores had played Maria once, Luisa never had. What if she'd dreamed about it just like Mirabel had? What if Mirabel had just taken it from her?

"Luisa," she suddenly asked, putting down her sewing, "would you want to play Maria this year? Because if you want to, you can. I mean, you're older than me, so you should do it first, anyway."

But Luisa was shaking her head before Mirabel could finish. "No, no, you should play Maria this year, Mirabel, really."

Mirabel went back to her sewing, though she wasn't completely convinced. "But haven't you ever wanted to be in Los Posadas?"

"Oh, sure, I've wanted to be in it. I just never wanted to play Maria." She hunched her shoulders and dropped her voice a little, as if admitting to something embarrassing. "When I was little, I... well, I always wanted to play Jose."

"Jose?" Antonio repeated, giggling a little. "But Luisa, he's a boy."

"Si, but I always thought he got the best part in Los Posadas. He gets to lead the donkeys."

And from then on, Christmas began to change even more. Camilo was just as eager as Isabela to give up his role in Los Posadas. Mirabel began work sewing a pair of pants that would fit Luisa, for almost no woman in the village had ever worn pants before. Isabela fixed her hair, pinning it close to her head so that it looked as short as a boy's. Felix lent her a hat. Antonio helped the family donkey rehearse its part. Alma didn't have much to do, but to her surprise, she found that she didn't mind. It was a nice change to just sit back and relax, to sip wine and let someone else run the show.

December 16 was a cold night, but the stars were bright overhead, and the entire village turned out, wrapped in blankets and clutching lanterns, excited to see the Los Posadas procession begin. Mirabel sat up tall and proud on the donkey, with the sarape that she had sewed herself arranged just so. She knew that Maria was supposed to look serious – she was seeking a safe place to give birth to her child – but she couldn't help beaming. Neither could Luisa, dressed in her costume as Jose and holding the donkey's reigns. Even the donkey, freshly-brushed, seemed to stand up straighter.

The Madrigal family gathered together on the front steps of Casita to watch; Julieta smiled so hard that her face hurt, and Bruno had tears in his eyes. Mirabel turned to look back at them all before she and Luisa began on their way. The past year had been such a painful one for her family. They'd almost lost their home and their Gifts, almost lost everything. She knew that being in Los Posadas was a way of praying, but when she saw her family smiling at her, she knew that her prayers had already been answered.