how we passed the hour

A late afternoon nap meant Wren wasn't ready for bed until much later than usual.

That lucky girl passed the hour by a wintry fireside with friends.  We huddled beneath the crisp, clear, star-filled sky.
We sang until she and the fire began to fade.

Is there a thing in this world as pleasing and as true as a face you love alight in the glow of a fire?