Lois woke up shivering. The other side of the bed was empty again, the covers cool to the touch. Clark had been called away hours ago to deal with the aftermath of a severe snowstorm.
She pulled on a cozy robe and padded to the window. Outside, the city was wrapped in a thick white blanket, the soft snowfall transforming everything into a scene straight out of a Christmas card. She sighed, already missing Clarks warmth, before heading downstairs.
In the living room, the Advent basket sat waiting, each bag tied neatly with its ribbon. Lois hesitated, her hand hovering over it. Clark had been the one to introduce this new tradition, filling each bag with thought and care. Opening it without him didn’t feel right.
With a sigh, she left the bag untouched and went to get ready for work. As she slipped on her coat and grabbed her keys, she glanced once more at the basket, silently hoping Clark would make it back in time to share the tradition later.
---
Clark finally joined her at the Planet just before the morning staff meeting. He looked worn, his shoulders heavy, his expression distant.
“Was it bad?” Lois whispered after greeting him with a quick kiss.
He nodded, his jaw tightening. “It was... Let’s talk about it later.”
Before she could press further, Perry’s booming voice summoned them all to the conference room. During the meeting, Lois held Clark’s hand under the table, gently squeezing it now and then, offering quiet support. She whispered small comments to him whenever Perry wasn’t looking, trying to lighten his mood.
During a pause in the meeting, she leaned closer. “I waited with the calendar, so you can watch me open it.”
That earned her a faint smile, the first she’d seen from him all morning. She realized then that this new tradition wasn’t just bringing her joy, it meant just as much to Clark.
---
Later, when they returned home, Lois quickly found the right bag, while Clark disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned he handed her a glass of something a few minutes later. The liquid smelled of raspberries and spices, Clark smiled, the weariness in his eyes fading. “This is called Julebrus, a soft drink from today’s country.”
Lois took a sip, the tart sweetness surprising her. “I like this,” she said, her eyes flicking back to him. “And I like seeing you relax again. Tough night?”
Clark nodded. “It wasn’t the rescues themselves. People were scared and upset - and some blamed me for not getting to them faster.”
She sighed, her hand resting on his. “Unfortunately, the weeks before Christmas tend to bring out people’s stress. But you helped, Clark. You always do.” She kissed him tenderly.
“Thank you, honey.” His expression softened and he gestured to the bag. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Lois untied the ribbon. Inside, she found a small wooden bird ornament. She turned it over in her hands, admiring its simplicity. “Okay, what’s today’s tradition? Something bird-related, I’m guessing?”
“You’re right,” he said, his voice warm. “Today’s tradition is from Norway. It’s called Julenek. Every Christmas, Norwegians tie a sheaf of grain, like this one, to a tree or pole outside their homes. It’s meant to feed the birds during the harsh winter and symbolizes kindness and care for all creatures.”
Lois smiled, touched by the idea. “That’s really sweet. So even the birds get to celebrate Christmas?”
“Exactly,” Clark said. “It’s about finding small ways to help, no matter how insignificant they might seem. And it’s a reminder that even in the coldest times, we can spread warmth.”
Lois raised an eyebrow. “Do we get to make one ourselves?”
Clark grinned and revealed a bundle of wheat, neatly tied with a red ribbon. “Already prepared. I thought we could hang it outside together. And I set up a few more feeders around the neighborhood earlier this morning while I was out. It’s not just for the birds, either, it’s a way to spread a little joy to anyone who passes by and sees them.”
They stepped into the snowy yard together, carrying the sheaf. The cold air bit at Lois’ cheeks, but the sight of the pristine snow and twinkling lights from their neighbors’ houses felt almost magical. They tied the wheat sheaf to a pole, the red ribbon standing out like a cheerful burst of color.
As Clark stepped back to admire their work, Lois scooped up a handful of snow, forming it into a quick, lopsided ball. With a mischievous grin, she called out, “Hey, farmboy!”
Clark turned just in time for the snowball to hit him squarely in the chest. He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You’re sure you want to start this?”
“Oh, I’m positive,” Lois said, already gathering another snowball.
Clark bent down, moving in a blur to pack a perfect snowball of his own. Lois barely had time to yelp before it lightly grazed her arm. “That’s cheating!” she laughed, ducking behind a tree.
“All’s fair in love and snowball fights,” Clark teased, lobbing another snowball her way.
The yard quickly turned into their battlefield, laughter echoing through the crisp air as snow flew back and forth. Lois managed to land a well-aimed shot on his shoulder, only for Clark to retaliate by gently sprinkling a handful of snow over her head, leaving her sputtering and giggling.
Their playful battle left them laughing and breathless, snow clinging to their hair and coats. Finally, Lois called out, “Truce!” holding up her hands. Clark, already closing the distance between them, pulled her into a warm embrace.
“Truce,” he agreed, brushing a few stray flakes from her hair. She leaned into him, his warmth melting away the cold.
They stood there for a moment, the snow gently falling around them, cocooned in their own little world. Clark rested his chin on top of her head, his voice soft. “You know, I think I won this round.”
Lois tilted her head back to look at him, smirking. “Only because you cheated, flyboy.” She whispered the last word.
He laughed, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Maybe. But I’ll make it up to you later.” Reluctantly, they pulled apart and headed back toward the house.
Later as she looked out into their yard Lois saw a small flock of sparrows fluttering down to the wheat sheaf. She smiled, watching the tiny creatures pecking at their unexpected gift. A quiet smile spread across her face.
“They’re already coming,” she said softly.
Clark slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “It’s amazing how a small gesture can make a difference, isn’t it?”
Lois leaned into him. “It really is.”
The gentle crackle of the fire filled the room as Lois’s gaze drifted to the bird ornament on their tree. It rested among the spider and the cucumber, each a testament to traditions that carried unexpected beauty and meaning.
“It’s funny,” she said after a moment, her voice thoughtful. “I never thought about how different Christmas is celebrated in other countries, but somehow the heart of it always stays the same.”
Clark turned his head to look at her, a quiet smile on his lips. “And how love, in all its forms, is at the heart of it all.”
Her eyes softened as she met his gaze. “I’m starting to think you’re the heart of all this, farm-boy.”
He chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face before leaning in to kiss her gently. “Only because you’re mine.”
The warmth of the day lingered in the quiet comfort of their embrace as they watched the flames dance. Outside, the faint song of birds seemed to echo the harmony they felt in their hearts.
