Sam, wake up!  You are needed!

            Sam awoke reluctantly.  A heavy snowfall had caused the Yule bonfire to sputter out not long after it finally caught, and all of those come to Hobbiton to spend Yule with their Mayor had taken shelter early back in the homes of their closest kin, as soon as the runners brought coals to set the hearth fires, candles, and lamps alight once more.  The first visitor to set foot over the threshold of Bag End after the Turning of the Year had been Levandoras Took, Pippin’s younger cousin.  The poor young Hobbit was blue with cold when he arrived with his gifts of oil, salt, wine, and wood for the household, and Sam and Rosie had hustled him into a warm bath, clean nightshirt, and one of the guestrooms as swiftly as possible, a small glass of Buckland brandy at hand to fortify him for the night—not that he’d drunk more than a sip before he’d fallen into a deep sleep.

            Only half awake, Sam knuckled his eyes.  “Wake up?  For what, Frodo?”

            You are needed!  Tell Rosie to get some food ready for four Hobbits, and that one of the rooms with a larger bed will do for them for the night.  And you will need to bring some extra blankets with you.  Those from my old wardrobe ought to do, I’d think.

            Rosie roused, her curls tousled about her lovely face.  “What is it, Sam?”

            “Master needs me.  Says to have you fix a meal for four, and get one of the rooms with a larger bed ready.  Pippin’s room, do you think?”

            Neither questioned that they’d been awakened by Frodo Baggins—perhaps they were too befuddled by the still cool smial and by just being aroused not that long after they’d gone to bed.  Sam pulled on his longer, heavier trousers over his nightshirt, along with a heavy sweater that had been his Yule gift from Marigold, and then lifted the thick winter curtains over the windows to peer outside.  “Snow’s lettin’ up, but the snow’s that deep, it is,” he reported.  He thought for a moment before deciding, “I’ll wear them boots as Merry give me two years ago.  Suspect as they’ll help keep me from fallin’ down in the cold.”

            Rosie had the kettle singing on the kitchen hearth when he made it into the room, and had placed some warmed taters baked partly under the bonfire on a plate on the table.  “Set these to finish bakin’ as soon as we came in from the Party Field.  Hope as they help you keep warm while you’re out there,” she said.

            Just then Frodo-lad entered the kitchen after his father.  He, too, was warmly dressed, and in his arms he held the blanket-roll from his wardrobe, the one his Uncle Frodo had always used when he slept atop the Hill during the years he’d dwelt in Bag End.

            Rosie eyed her son’s burden.  “What for do you need that, sweetling?” she asked.

            “Someone called me to get up, dress warmly, and to bring this.  Said as I’ll need to help my Sam-dad.  Where are we going, Dad?”

            “Don’t know as yet.  I suppose as we’ll be told once we get out.  Here—your Mum has these taters ready for us.  Take one to eat, and put one inside your jacket pocket to keep you warm.”  Sam stifled a yawn while following his own advice.

            These two male denizens of Bag End were soon fastening their warmest cloaks and pulling on their thickest mittens.  Rosie wound a bright red scarf about her son’s neck, saw to it that their hoods were pulled up to protect their ears, and with a kiss to each saw them out the door.

            Sam went first to break a path for his son.  The snow was already up past his knees, and would have been nearly chest-deep on Frodo-lad.  He hoped it wouldn’t be far that they needed to go.  They made their way carefully down to the level of the New Row, pausing so as to figure out which way they should go next.  It was then that they heard the muffled clop of hooves in the snow, and turned to see Sancho Proudfoot coming their way, leading the small horse he’d recently purchased from Bree, which was pulling his red sledge. 

            “You’re up, too?” Sam asked his neighbor from the Row.

            “So it seems,” Sancho answered.  “I’ll swear as Cousin Frodo called me to get up and bring the sledge here.  Said as it was needed now.”

            Sam nodded thoughtfully.  “Same here, for me, Frodo-lad, and his mum.  She’s to fix up food for about four Hobbits, and we were to bring blankets.”

            “Where are we to go, though?” Sancho asked.

            Sam looked about uncertainly.  Then his attention was caught by a familiar light in the distance.  “That way!” he said, indicating the light.

            Sancho brought his hand to his forehead to cut the cold wind that blew in his eyes.  “Where that star is shining?” he hazarded.  “Didn’t think as the clouds had opened at all, but that star’s bright enough, don’t you think?  Well, if that’s the way as we should go, get on the sledge and we’ll set out across the fields.”

            As soon as they were safely in the Party Field, all three Hobbits boarded the sledge, Sancho and Frodo-lad on the low bench at the front, and the Proudfoot gave the reins a shake.  “Let’s go, Buffo,” he called, and the horse shivered slightly before stepping out.

            There were more blankets and rugs on the sledge, and Sam soon had them draped over the other two.  It was so cold, driving as they were into the face of the wind.  They were all glad that the snowfall had lessened—for the moment, at least.  But the starlight still gleamed ahead of them, toward the Road.

            “There’s no one living that way,” Frodo called over his shoulder.  ”There’s just that empty smial as no one’s ever lived in.”

            “It was home to Chubbs when I was younger,” Sam answered.  “Devro Chubb lived there with his family.  But when Devro died, none of the other Chubbs wanted to take up the place.  It has been empty a long time, I’ll admit.”

            As they approached the old Hobbit hole, the light grew brighter.  Sancho spat.  “That ain’t no star, or I’m a Dwarf!”

            “Well, you ain’t a Dwarf, that’s for certain,” Sam answered. 

            “It’s like that odd light as Cousin Frodo had when we went down into the Lockholes in Michel Delving,” Sancho continued.

            Again Sam agreed.  “So it is.”

            “It sure looks like a star, though.”

            “Like the Light of Eärendil, don’t you think?”  Sam was smiling oddly.

            Frodo-lad again looked over his shoulder.  “But Uncle Frodo took the star-glass with him, didn’t he?”

            His father nodded.  “That he did—held it up for us to see as the ship sailed west.  We could see it long after the sun set.”

            “But how----“

            “The Powers has their ways,” Sam said with a finality that forbade further discussion.

            Frodo-lad gave his father a significant look, then turned his attention back to the apparent star shining before them from the top of the old Chubbs place.  Not, of course, that it was easy to keep their attention that way, as the east wind was blowing snow almost fully in their faces as they made their way toward the source of that apparent starlight.

            At last the sledge arrived in front of the hole, and Sancho pulled the horse to a stop.  A pair of ponies huddled on the lee side of the hill, a blanket belted about each of them with a piece of rope to hold the blankets in place.  Sam, his oldest son, and Sancho alighted from the sledge and prepared to enter the hole.  “Oy!” called Sancho.  “It’s the Mayor come to help as may be needed.  May we come in?”

            Scuffling could be heard inside, and at last the door opened—or in truth it fell inside with a muffled clatter.  Just inside the open doorway stood a gentlehobbit and his son, who appeared to be about sixteen; inside the room near a most inadequate fire a Hobbitess reclined, wrapped in blankets, attended by what appeared to be her daughter, a lass obviously some years younger than her brother.  The odor of the room told its own tale—the children’s mother had apparently just given birth! 

            “Quite the place to give birth, or so I say as perhaps shouldn’t,” Sam noted.  “We come with a sledge, and are willing to take you to safety at Bag End, if’n you’re willin’ to go so far.  My Rosie’s fixin’ up a meal for you—you’re too late for the Yule feast, not that the weather allowed us to share it there in the Party Field.  But we brought plenty back inside to enjoy later in the comfort of the smial.  Would you like to make the further journey?”

            “Would we like it?” asked the father to this family.  “Oh, but wouldn’t we just!  We was invited to share Yule with our cousins, Teren Chubb and his family, only we didn’t make it so far.  About a quarter mile back our wagon slid off the road, and while we was gettin’ out of the mess of it, Crystal here realized as her water’d broke.  A star was shinin’ down on this smial, so we headed here as fast as we could.  There was but a bit of wood in the fireplace, and I was barely able to get it to catch afore the bairn began to come.  No time to fetch other help.  Can’t say as how I could see to manage things if’n it hadn’t been for the starlight through the windows there.  Imagine—starlight in such a snowstorm!”

            “Imagine such a thing!” agreed the Shire’s Mayor.  “So, the bairn’s here already?”

            “Oh, yes—and such a rush she was to get out of there, into her mum’s arms,” the father said.  “Oslo here managed to cut the ponies free of the wagon and bring them here, and he tells me he managed to get the extra blankets bound about them to keep them warmer.  But they, too, will need better protection against the cold.”

            “I’ll bring them to my stable tonight,” Sancho assured them.  “What with my own ponies and the horse, it will be warm enough for two more.”

            Sam checked the mother and child as well as he could.  “Should be all right to bundle them in the extra blankets and take them back to the Hill,” he declared.  You had warm water?”

            “Lilac brought in snow in the pot we found in the kitchen, and we had time to warm it by the fire.  Young as she is, Lilac was a right help seein’ to it as her little sister was born safe and their mum cleaned up rightly.  Am proud of both my young’uns, I am!”

            Both children beamed at the praise they received.  A movement brought the attention of all to the large dog that lay by its mistress, helping to keep her and the babe warmer.  Lilac reached down to scratch the dog’s ears.  “Muffy helped, too.  She’s such a good girl.  She licked the bairn till it begun to breathe and cry, and she’s stayed right by Mum the whole time.”

            “Imagine the midwife allowing a dog in with our mum when a babe’s being born,” said Frodo-lad.  “But this one knew just what to do, it seems.”  He reached out and patted the dog, and gladly allowed her to lick his hand.

            The blanket roll from Uncle Frodo’s wardrobe was swiftly put the use, the rug laid on the sledge and the blankets added to those about the mother and child, and the whole carried gently to the sledge by Sam and laid upon the rug.  Muffy accompanied her mistress to the sledge and jumped up to lie against her back.  Frodo-lad and Oslo brought out the ponies and tied their lead ropes to the rear of the sledge.  Lilac and the lads got onto the sledge near the mother and wrapped themselves with those blankets brought by Sancho, while the carter and the Mayor sat on the bench with the father in between them for the ride back to the Hill.

            “The star’s moved,” Oslo called out, pointing to the place it now appeared to shine, high to the west of their current place.

            “It’s atop the Hill now,” Frodo agreed.  “Now it will lead us home.”

            They went faster with the wind at their back, and both horse and its burden moved smoothly through the deepening snow.  Only once did they slow, when a big, furry creature approached, bounding through the snow toward them.

            “What is that?” called out Sancho with concern.

            Sam peered carefully before laughing aloud.  “It’s Nubbin, Elanor’s dog!  She must have let it out.”

            Nubbin was quite a large beast, and very furry.  He came abreast of the sledge and leapt aboard, placing himself on the other side of the mother and child from Muffy.  So insulated was the precious burden they were bringing to safety that the mother laughed with relief when the sledge rounded the turn in the lane and stopped at last at the foot of the walk and both dogs jumped out.   “I think as we were about to become far too warm,” she exclaimed as she was helped to her feet, giving the babe into its father’s arms before Sam helped her down at the foot of the stairs. 

            Two of the Twofoot lads stood there, brooms in hand, after clearing the steps, and Merry-lad held the gate open for them to allow them to climb to the gardens and the front stoop.  Elanor opened the door for them and welcomed Nubbin and his companion with warm towels.  “What good dogs you were!” she cooed as she began to dry them off.  “Now, go and lie down before the fire, the both of you!”

            Rosie had a basin of warm water ready to cleanse the feet of their guests, but Sam waved her away.  “Here, my sweet lass—see to Missus Chubb here and the bairn, and I’ll see to the feet of the others.  And they all must be fair starved by now.  They were comin’ for the Yule feast, but didn’t make it in time.”

            It wasn’t too long before the newcomers were wrapped in clean dressing gowns and nightshirts from the kist from Gondor that held extra clothing that had once belonged to Frodo Baggins.  The father of the family introduced himself and his family.  “Daro Chubb, at your service.  You’ve met my wife Crystal, and our older children, Oslo and Lilac.  We hadn’t decided fully on what we’d call the babe, however.”

            Crystal smiled as she held her infant daughter in a sweet-smelling wrap.  “We thought as it would be a lad this time, but we were wrong, or so it would seem.  Don’t know as what we’ll call her.”

            “I know the perfect name,” Lilac said.  “Snowdrop!  That’s the name for my little sister, don’t you think?”

            Oslo tossed his head.  “Snowdrop, you say?  Mayhaps that will be good enough.  But in my mind she’ll always be Starbright.  Don’t you think so, Mum?”

            Even Lilac came to agree that this was indeed the proper name for the new arrival to their family.  It wasn’t long before, after a light meal, the family settled down in the room that held Pippin and Diamond Took when they visited Bag End, amazed at the length of the bed that comfortably held them all.  With little Starbright warmly bundled into the cradle that once had held Frodo Baggins, back when he was born in Number Five, down on the Row, the Chubb family swiftly fell into  a comfortable sleep, Muffy guarding all from the rug before the hearth.

            Frodo-lad and Elanor had shepherded their younger brother back to bed, and Rosie-lass was coaxed back into the bed she shared with her older sister.  At last Rosie and Samwise Gamgee returned to their own bed, with Sam smiling to see that Nubbin was lying athwart the door to the lasses’ room, his tail thumping softly in acknowledgment of Sam’s awareness of his own guard. 

            “It’s a full house we have tonight, I must say,” Rosie yawned as she blew out her lamp.

            “That it is.  Quite the new year this is turnin’ out to be.”  Sam pulled her to him to give her a gentle kiss.  “Stars shinin’ through the snow, and a new life in my Master’s old cradle.  He’d smile to see it, don’t you think?”

            Soon the Master and Mistress of Bag End joined their children and guests in slumber.

           *******

             Far away to the west Frodo Baggins, known here more familiarly as Iorhael, slipped the star-glass into his robes, and turned from the palantir that Elrond had brought to Elvenhome with them from the Tower Hills, west of the Shire.  It wasn’t often he was allowed to look through it at those he’d left behind, but tonight had been a special night.  The child born at the Turning of the Year, back there outside Hobbiton in the Shire, was, after all, one of his distant cousins, and he was pleased he’d been allowed to offer her such a welcome into Middle Earth.