Christmas Eve

We chose the Episcopal church
next to the post office.
Just you and me this year
as our early Christmas with
the kids whose conflicting schedules
gave us that one lucky window
the weekend before.

It’s said this is the oldest church
building in town, small and spare
making the most of what the flock
could afford then and now.
There’s an intimate warmth
we’re not used to back up the hill
as you pray for a place that suits
your faith, and maybe a prayer
that I might show
a little faith at all.

I continue humming Silent Night
as we walk to the car
and wonder if I should lay out
two steaks for tomorrow’s dinner
or if we’d just split one.