Gusting winds blew the falling snow into little eddies and drifts, but otherwise the streets were quiet, for everyone was at home, preparing for Christmas Eve. Well, not everyone. On a cobbled street there lived a tailor named Leo who was hard at work, sewing and trimming and hemming.

Leo liked to stay busy, for when he stopped working, he thought of his beloved wife, Sonia, who had died a few months earlier. He could not imagine a celebration without his Sonia. So he decided to ignore all holidays, even Christmas.

Suddenly Leo heard a knock, but before he could answer, an elegantly dressed lady swept into his shop. "I need this dress fixed for tonight, no later than sunset," she said, thrusting a bundle at him.

Leo peered at her. "Impossible," he began to say, but she cried, "Fail me, and everyone shall know that Leo the tailor is no longer good at his work. I'll see that you are ruined."

Then she was gone.

Leo stared at the badly torn dress, impossible to repair. "I'm ruined," he groaned, and in despair he lay down on his rickety cot and pulled the blanket over his head. Soon he was asleep and dreaming, and a beautiful girl with golden curls appeared to him. "You must celebrate, Papa Leo," she said cheerily.

PHOTOS: Top Broward restaurants

Leo looked into her face, and he saw his beloved wife. "Sonia?" he whispered. Sonia was the only person who had ever called him Papa Leo, and this was exactly as she had looked when they first met. "Is that you?"

"Yes," she said, "and look at this mess!" She began to tidy up around the room, and then disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing first with an exquisite gingerbread house, decorated with candy canes and covered in icing, then with the creche Leo had hidden in the back of his shed. "You've forgotten this," she said, placing the creche upon the floor. "And our holly wreath," she added as she hung it on the door.

Leo watched, amazed. In his dream, Sonia was just as she'd been in life, joyful and lively. He listened to her sing his favorite carols, the music he'd refused to listen to all season long. Now his heart was bursting with pleasure.

"One more thing," Sonia said, and she carried a candle to the window. When she lighted it, the room seemed to glow.

As the light flickered over his face, Leo sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Sonia!" he cried, but now there was no one in sight.

And yet the gingerbread house stood upon the table, the creche upon the floor, the holly wreath hung on the door, the candle glowed in the window. Leo smelled bread and cookies baking and soup boiling. "Sonia?" he called again, but there was silence.

Dazed, he heard a knock. When he opened the door he saw a woman with a baby cradled in her arms. "I'm sorry to bother you, but we were drawn to the candlelight as we were walking home," she said.

"Come in," Leo said, and he watched the woman's eyes light up at the sight of the creche. "How beautiful," she said. "I once lived beside a church where there was a creche exactly like this one. May I touch it?"

Leo nodded, and as she touched the figures in the manger, she wept with happiness.

"Please," Leo said, "take it. For you and your baby."

The woman's tired face seem to light up. "You are too kind. This would make our Christmas perfect."

"It is yours," Leo said. "Merry Christmas."

The woman gathered up the figurines and left with a parting smile. But soon another knock came, and when Leo opened the door he saw a man in tattered clothing, his face dirty from dust. "Excuse me," he said, "but I am a road sweeper. With this snow, I have no way to make any money for a Christmas meal. When I saw your light, I felt you might welcome a poor man."