Every year, Mike and I have a Christmas tradition to cut down our own tree from the Crossen's Tree Farm outside of Pembroke, NY. Something in my gut said today would be the day he would propose to me, but his utter calmness persuaded me otherwise. It truly didn't feel as special as the years before, because we had no snow this time around. However, it was still blistering cold. As we began searching for "the tree", I noticed Mike's hands were shaking and I asked if he would like to wear my gloves. With slight hesitation, Mike said yes, but he never put them on. I was confused, until he took my hand, got down on one knee, and ask me to marry him. After many tears, lots of hugs, and laughter, the snow began to fall.