Christmas for Lois while growing up had always been a rather unusual affair. When she was younger, her mother had made an effort to provide the family Christmas atmosphere, and Lois remembered the brightly colored lights, wrapped presents, and aromatic tree, very well. With her father, things were different. The most exciting part was having Christmas dinner with the troops, feeling their excitement, even though they were so far from their families. Her father couldn't match any of that spirit, so their private celebrations, with Lois and her sister, were straightforward, less whimsical affairs.
It had taken her a while to get used to Clark's brand of magic, but he'd led her into it like a snake charmer. The man was like Santa Claus, himself. Pure magic, completely unbelievable, and yet undeniably real. Good, sweet, Clark became a kid at Christmas, and she was incredulous at first, but he lured her into the madness until she was able to look through the rush and the hastle of shopping and bad weather and high suicide rates, to what he saw. Light; goodwill; peace.
It was a struggle to get there every year, but Clark led by example, and even a City mouse could learn to love a country Christmas if he was the Country mouse leading the way. Leaning closer, Lois sipped her cocoa. "I keep wondering how long it will be before Perry starts calling us non-stop," she teased. That probably wouldn't happen. Probably. "If I don't get my hands on something electronic soon, I might take up quilting, or crochet, or that thing with the yarn."