“Come on, Henry, we need to get going,” Nell Castle said to her husband. “They’ll all be waiting for us.”

Henry reached for his black hat resting on the top shelf of the closet. “Mother, I would rather just stay home, if you don’t mind.” He waited, hoping he’d get a reprieve.

“Henry Castle, don’t even think about it. Being half a hermit is fine most of the time, but not today, for heaven’s sake.”

Shaking his head and muttering, Henry headed for the front door. Nell was buttoning up her good black coat with the fur collar.

“All right, Mother,” Henry said, “but I can’t guarantee the roads will be clear. The snowfall last night probably blocked the creek road. We’ll have to take our chances going up over the hill.”

Nell tied her scarf under her chin. “Well, let’s get a move on then. The last thing I want is for us to be late.”

Henry sighed. Rushing with the roads as they were was a bad idea. Still, he knew when his wife’s mind was set on something, there was no getting around it. “Okay, but if we’re late, we’re late. Don’t nag at me.”

He opened the door of their ’49 Ford. “This ole gal’s not gonna be happy we’re making her face those slick roads.”

Nell settled into her seat and stared straight ahead.

“All right, Mother,” he said as he cranked the engine, “me and ole Betsy here will do our best to get us to the church on time.” As if in agreement, the engine fired right up and purred despite the cold.

They started off on the five-mile trek to the town they’d both been born in, listening to the Jubilee Gospel Hour on the radio. “And He walks with me, and He talks with me…” the singers crooned. Nell hummed along.

Up the steep hill the car crawled, her tires crunching through the snow. The sun was out and the countryside lay blanketed in white. The air was cold and crisp—Henry spotted a single red bird perched in a bare tree.

“We’re making good time,” Nell said after the song ended. “At this rate, we’ll surprise them all and be early.”

Henry was about to agree when he glanced at the water gauge. The arrow was deep in the red danger zone. At that moment he saw steam rising from under the hood. He eased the car off the road. “Betsy seems to have sprung a leak, Mother. I’m afraid we may not make it at all.”

He climbed out and walked through the snow to the hood. Undoing the latch, he saw the radiator spewing. He looked up at the sky and shook his head. “She’s never going to forgive me for this. Not this time.”

Henry took out his handkerchief and used it to remove the radiator cap. Then he went to the trunk and retrieved the full water bottle he kept for emergencies. The water inside was frozen solid. “Oh, dear Lord,” he muttered, “now we’re really sunk.”

He looked up to see Nell getting out of the car.

“Mother, get back in. You’ll catch your death.”

Nell ignored him and stepped beside him, taking in the spewing radiator and the frozen bottle. “Oh, Henry, not today of all days. What in the world can we do?”

Henry looked into his aging wife’s brown eyes. He saw the disappointment there, and his heart pinched. “Mother, give me just a minute. I have an idea.”

He bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and shaped it into a snowball. Nell’s eyes widened.

“Henry Castle, this is NOT the time for fun and games!”

Henry chuckled, then dropped the snowball into the radiator. He made another, then another, dropping them one by one into the black spout. The radiator sputtered and hissed as the snow melted, providing the much-needed water.

Nell smiled. “Oh, Henry, you’re a genius.”

Thirty minutes later, the couple walked into the Pine Valley Baptist Church. Gold streamers crisscrossed the rafters, and the entire congregation stood and clapped as they arrived.

“Thank you, Henry,” Nell said as they headed for their pew.

“It was nothing, Mother,” he said, smiling as he saw the sign two children held up. It read “Happy 50th Wedding Anniversary.” He squeezed his wife’s hand. “It was the least I could do.”