The cold winter wind whips against my cheek. I walk faster, my boots clomping against the sidewalk. My neighbors have red and green lights strung up on their porches. I see my neighbors across the street, hanging ornaments on their tree. I pull my jacket closer around my body. My backpack weighs down my shoulders and the cold wind make my eyes water.

I finally reach my house. My house fits in well with the rest of our block. The Christmas tree is up and there are colorful lights hanging around the porch. Quickly, I reach into my purse and extract my house key. I let myself in and take off my snow covered boots. Nobody is home, so I make my way into the kitchen. A note is up on the fridge. I carefully pull it down, so as not to rip it.

Elizabeth-

I had to run back to work. Dinner is in the fridge. I’ll be home soon.

-Mom

I sigh and crumple up the note, not surprised that she’s not home. After inspecting the contents of the refrigerator, I decide on warming up some soup. After clicking on the TV, I curl up on the couch in the living room, half watching TV, half staring out the window, watching the snow become heavier and fall faster. My eyes become heavy and I drift asleep.

***

The next morning I wake up to a piercing light in my eyes. I bolt upright on the couch, suddenly remembering that it’s Christmas. I call out for my mom, but there is no response. I check my phone and see that she texted me last night. I slide my finger across the screen of my iPhone and read the text.

Caught in the snow, had to go back to work. Can’t come home until the streets are plowed. Sorry. Love you

I sigh and try not to let it disappoint me. I’m not hugely surprised that she went back to work; she’s practically addicted to her job. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I make my way to the kitchen to find breakfast. After popping a piece of bread into the toaster, I click on the TV, wondering if there will be any news on, given that it’s Christmas. I flip through the channels. While spreading peanut butter over my toast, I listen to the reporter rave about the insane amount of snow that we got last night, and are still getting. I look out the window to see at least five feet of snow on the ground, with more falling.

I bring my toast to the living room and sit down, Indian style, by our Christmas tree, disappointment filling my heart. I tap the Pandora app on my phone and turn on the Christmas station to fill up the quiet house. Slowly, I sift through the piles of presents under the tree until I find my own. With Christmas songs playing in the background, I unwrap my presents and line them up in front of the tree. Once I’m all done unwrapping, I stare at the line of gifts. Gift cards to Forever 21, Aeropostale, Gap and Visa. A few new pairs of heels and boots. My favorite candy.

But, sadly, no Mom. I sigh and crawl across the floor towards the fireplace. Carefully, I place some logs on the hearth. I grab last week’s newspaper and crumple up the sheets and stuff them around the logs, in my attempt to bring in some warmth. I’m just about to light a match, when the doorbell rings. I climb up and peek out the window to see who it is. A teenage boy, a young girl and a woman. They look vaguely familiar, since my family just moved into this neighborhood. Quickly, I run a hand through my hair and straighten my pajama shirt. I push open the front door.

“Hi!” The woman says.

“Hey,” I respond. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Angela Moore. This is my son, Nathan and my daughter, Ava,” she says.

“I’m Elizabeth. Elizabeth Reyes,” I tell her.

You’ve just moved in, correct?” Angela asks.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“We noticed that there isn’t a car in the driveway, yet you’re home,” she explains. “We wanted to make sure that everything is okay, given that it’s Christmas.”

I smile. “Thank you, but everything is fine. My mom had to go back to work last night and couldn’t make it back home because of the snow.”

“Do you know when she’ll be back?” Nathan asks, he seems concerned.

“As soon as it’s plowed enough for her to drive,” I say, playing with the edge of my t-shirt.

“We brought cookies for you,” Ava pipes up, thrusting a plate at me.

I’m taken aback. “Really?” I ask, shocked. Nobody has ever gone out of their way for me, even my mother.

“Of course.” Angela smiles. “If you need anything, you can call us.” She hands me a small piece of paper. On the paper, in a neat script, are two phone numbers.

“Here.” Nathan gives me another slip of paper, this one with only one phone number on it, presumably his. I smile to myself, thinking that this is his way of reaching out to me.

“Well, thank you guys so much,” I tell them earnestly. “I really appreciate it.”

“Not a problem,” Angela says.

The family turns to leave. I gently touch Nathan’s arm and he turns.

“Thanks,” I say again.

“My pleasure.” He gives me a sweet smile. “Text if you need anything.”

“Okay,” I breath.

***

My mom comes home later that evening. I don’t tell her about our generous neighbors or my disappointment. We spend Christmas evening eating popcorn and watching Elf, like every Christmas I remember. My mom apologizes about the snow, but I tell her that it’s okay, even though, too me, it’s not.

The next day, I get a text from Nathan and, a few days later, we meet at Starbucks for coffee. Because of an insane snow storm and my mom’s trip back to work, I have befriended some pretty amazing neighbors and I realize that everything happens for a reason.