Beneath winter's gentle, silvered veil, We gather tools, our breaths a mist, To mend the sanctuary where stories sail, A Christmas gift, love's humble twist. In the quiet hum of working hands, Memories echo, laughter's grace, As saws sing softly through the plans, Reweaving time in this cherished space. For you, dear Mom, this we'll restore, A carport's shelter, a roof anew, To keep you warm through seasons more, Our love, the beams that see you through.