It's not easy to live in this world. But maybe seeing that others have, maybe knowing that winters have been survived, maybe there's comfort in that, even joy. And joy far surpasses the cold. So she would carry it with her, that house near the lake, weathered, but not beaten. She carried it with her, and when the wind blew through her, around her, she held it close, knowing the winter had that power, to welcome spring. And she did too. She had that power. And they could see it. They could see in her, always, the possibility of joy.