It is Christmas time. My wife, daughter and I are driving through NYC on our way home. We decide to stop and visit a church.
I'm walking up a double-wide set of outdoor concrete stairs, which are covered by snow. I consider stopping to clear them, but instead I decide to continue on my way.
I enter the church with my daughter. I had dropped off my wife and plan to meet her inside. But it's so crowded that I enter a smaller chapel adjacent to the main sanctuary. Hopefully my wife will find us, but I doubt it.
My daughter begins talking nonsense. The fact that she's loud and saying bizarre things makes her seem blasphemous. I try to quiet her down.
As I sit passing the time, I suddenly see Uncle D. and Aunt E. walking toward us, dressed in Sunday attire. I catch their attention and they walk over to me and greet me. I kiss my aunt's somewhat ancient hand, and I move to hug and kiss my uncle, but he leans away.
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