"My door is on the latch tonight, The hearth fire is aglow. I seem to hear swift passing feet — The Christ Child in the snow." Reba, the minister’s new wife, was spirited, vigorous, courageous, and clever. She was also invincibly, incurably happy — so that the minister seemed to grow younger every year. Reba doubled his joys and halved his burdens, tossing them from one of her fine shoulders to the other like feathers. She swept into the quiet village life of Beulah like a salt sea breeze. Now she has a plan — one involving a few small verses she has penned. For there are rebellious youths and some contention in the church that threatens to split it . . .