In evenings of late fall, Florence would sallie forth with one or both of us in hand, head over to the Delancy Street or East Broadway stop, and take the F up to Herald Square.
We'd step into a familiar world that was awake and bursting around Macy's, and those carts really did smell of roasting chestnuts and hot crispy pretzels.
No matter how far or close to Christmas it was, nothing felt frantic. It was more like we were all part of the season's lights and we got to dance and sway through the darkness.
There are still brief moments like that, one unexpected near Carmine Street as we avoided shopping crowds and had hot chocolate instead.
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