Amidst the frosty air of Christmas's eve, Wyoma with a broken wrist finds rest, As cows and sheep in gentle dreams conceive The silent peace that holds the ranch's crest. Dear Gram, with Holly’s hugs and laughter bright, The spirit of their bond alights the night. Mark stands, a steadfast guardian in the light, With care he hunts, protecting with his might. While Hagen, through the wilderness, finds grace, In fishing streams and hunting grounds he roams, His truck a temple to each wild place, As college marks the space between his homes. And Macey, with the cosmos in her eyes, Turns clay and fields into her vast, bold skies.