December 16th

Lois woke to the sound of lively music drifting in from the kitchen. The rhythmic strum of a mariachi tune mixed with the warm, spicy scent of cinnamon and chocolate. She stretched, pulling herself out of bed, curiosity leading her downstairs.

In the kitchen, a steaming mug of cocoa sat waiting for her. Lois wrapped her hands around it, savoring the rich, velvety taste as it spread through her, chasing away the last traces of sleep. She looked up as Clark bustled around, humming softly to the music.

She glanced over the rim of her mug to find Clark, bustling around. “Morning,” he said, his smile as warm as ever.

“Morning,” Lois replied, setting her mug down. “Clark, what are you up to now?” Lois asked, raising an eyebrow as she took her seat on the couch after getting the bag from the basket.

Lois undid the ribbon and peeked inside, pulling out a small ornament, a clay figurine of Mary and Joseph on a donkey, She raised an eyebrow. “Judging by the music in the kitchen, I’m guessing Mexico?”

“Correct,” Clark said, leaning against the counter. “Today’s tradition is Las Posadas.”

Lois tilted her head. “That’s the one where people reenact Mary and Joseph’s search for shelter, right?”

Clark nodded. “Exactly. For nine nights leading up to Christmas, families go from house to house, singing carols and asking for shelter. Most homes ‘reject’ them, but the final house welcomes everyone inside for a celebration with food, music and piñatas. It’s a beautiful mix of faith, hospitality and community.”

Lois considered the ornaments. “So it’s about opening your home and heart?”

Clark smiled. “You’ve got it. I thought we could do something similar. Host a small gathering for our neighbors, especially those who might be alone this season, like Bertha Avery. We can share food, maybe even sing.”

Lois smirked. “And you’ll provide the food, right? Because we both know I’m not whipping up a Mexican feast on short notice - not that I could manage it if I had the time. And we still have to go to work today.”

Clark chuckled. “I’ve already got it covered. Superman is handling the food. But you’re helping with the decorations and the singing.”

Lois stood up with a laugh, ready to help. “Alright, let’s do it.”

---

That evening, their home transformed into a cozy celebration of Las Posadas. Clark created a feast: steaming tamales, bowls of pozole and crispy buñuelos dusted with cinnamon sugar. Lois helped set up and hang colorful decorations Clark had produced from somewhere. He’d even found some time to invite their neighbors.

A handful of people arrived, filling the living room with warmth and chatter. They shared stories and laughter over the delicious spread, while Clark explained the significance of Las Posadas. Though they skipped the traditional procession, the spirit of community was undeniable.

When Mrs. Ramirez, their elderly neighbor, approached her with a gentle smile, Lois felt a tug at her heart.

“You know,” Mrs. Ramirez said softly, “it’s been years since I celebrated Las Posadas. Thank you for bringing back such special memories. It’s nice to feel connected again.”

Lois squeezed her hand. “I think that’s why Clark loves this season so much.”

As the night wound down and their guests trickled out, Lois stood by the window, gazing at the softly falling snow. Clark came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“You were amazing tonight,” he murmured.

Lois leaned back against him, her voice quiet. “It felt good. Like we were part of something bigger.”

Clark pressed a kiss to her temple. “That’s what Christmas is about. Opening doors, even the ones we’ve kept shut for a while.”

She turned in his arms, her eyes shining. “Thank you, Clark. For reminding me how good it can feel to let people in.”

As the evening settled in, they moved to the living room, the soft glow of the Christmas tree casting a warm light. Clark pulled out a small piñata he’d secretly prepared, filled with Lois’s favorite treats. After some laughter and playful competition, they shared the spoils, sitting close on the couch.

Lois leaned her head against Clark’s shoulder, her voice soft. “You know, I never thought piñatas could feel so… meaningful.”

Clark wrapped an arm around her, his voice equally tender. “It’s not about what we do, but who we share it with. That’s the real tradition.”

As they ate the last of the buñuelos the glow of the Christmas tree wrapped them in a cocoon of warmth. Lois rested her head on Clark’s shoulder, feeling a rare sense of peace.

Lois smiled, her fingers tracing patterns on his hand. “Thank you, Clark. For making Christmas feel like something I could actually enjoy.”

He kissed her temple, his voice a gentle whisper. “You deserve all the joy in the world, Lois. And I’ll do whatever it takes to help you find it.”

They sat in peaceful silence, the warmth of the season wrapping around them like a soft blanket.

Last edited by Kathryn84; 12/16/24 04:37 AM. Reason: Last Christmas, I wrote you a draft, But the very next day, you swept it away. This year, to save me from fear, I’ll craft it for someone special.
Kathryn