It was a cold winter evening. A thick blanket of snow covered the countryside as a gentle flurry descended from the sky. There was a stillness in the air, with not a sound except for the occasional plow truck clearing the roads. A long, unplowed road leads to a cottage in the distance with smoke escaping its chimney.

An old man in heavy flannel stands in front of the house chopping firewood. It splits with little effort or sound, making only a dull ‘thunk’ when the ax hits the chopping block. He tosses the pieces onto a canvas sheet with a handle at each end. When the old man felt he had had enough, he grabbed each handle and pulled them together, hoisting the firewood up into a convenient little carrier and bringing it inside.

Closing the door behind him, the old man kicked the snow off his boots on the threshold of the entryway before making his way into the kitchen and then the living room. On the far wall was a fireplace with a low flame. The old man set the carrier down on the floor and took out a few pieces of cut wood. Three pieces he took out and placed into the fire in such an arrangement as to create the most warmth. The rest, he put into a nearby wooden firewood bin.

The old man stood up and brushed his hands together, satisfied at a job well done. As he turned, his wife handed him a cup of coffee and kissed his cheek. He smiled. Life was good, and he found it hard to imagine it better than this.

He sat down on the couch and turned on the television. It’s a Wonderful Life was on. His wife sat down beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. He put an arm around her shoulder and sipped his coffee.

It truly was a wonderful life.