The Perfect Christmas Gifts (standard:drama, 1606 words)
Author: Maureen Stirsman	Added: Dec 21 2006	Views/Reads: 3218/2159	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Cora Golden plans a wonderful Christmas at home, with her family at her side, but a phone calls changes her plans.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Emily. Then we went home to JoAnne's, where Cindy, Emily and I made 
fudge for the Grovers. It truly was an afternoon to remember. That 
night I went to bed in the guest room exhausted and slept soundly. It 
was a wonderful Christmas from beginning to end, the shopping, the 
church program and the time with my family, but only too soon it was 
time to get back on the airplane for home. ... On the afternoon of 
December 28th our plane landed safely and soon we were in our own car 
driving home. Our house was just as we left it. The pine wreath on the 
door welcomed us. Morris hit the garage door opener. “Look, honey, 
there's something on the lamp post.” 

There was a note written in a neat hand. “Thank you so much for the
lovely tree. You'll never know what a great Christmas it made for our 
family. We didn't think we would have one. It's a perfect Christmas 
tree.” 

After the car was unloaded and the house warm, Eloise, my neighbor, came
over. “Welcome home, Cora. Did you have a good trip? I wanted to bring 
this over,” she said putting a rather large box on the table. “That boy 
was here, you know the young man that was with you a couple of years 
ago. I gave him your present and he seemed really pleased. He brought 
this and I said I would give it to you.” When she left we opened the 
package. It was a charming Blue Willow teapot. It just brought tears to 
my eyes. Robert had nothing, as far as we know. Last year he had a gift 
for me and to tell you the truth the thought crossed my mind that he 
might have shoplifted it. Now I'm ashamed for even thinking that. The 
gifts that I got this year are all so heartfelt. JoAnne and I spent 
good quality evenings together after the rest had gone to bed. I got to 
shop with Cindy. That is always a joy. And not even to mention the 
pleasure I had from seeing Emily's face when we took her shopping for 
her family. We told her to tell them everything was from Santa Claus. 

Morris and I visited Edgar, Ed's father. He's recovering from the
stroke. He goes to rehab every day, but strangely the time spent with 
this godly man blessed us tremendously. Mark is always a joy, and Ed a 
thoughtful son-in-law. Cindy got me a journal. “You really should write 
things down, Gram. You do so much. And someday I would like to read 
it.” I never have kept a diary—but who knows. Mark made me a curio 
shelf. Maybe I will put the teapot on it. 

11:15. P.m. “I'm going up, Cora. Are you?” Morris is standing by the
staircase. 

“I'll be there in a minute.” I sit back down and pick up the journal. I
have decided to write as though I am writing to God. In a few minutes I 
hear Morris singing in the shower. He's the best thing that ever 
happened to me. I pick up my purple pen. “Dear Heavenly Father, I am so 
ashamed of myself. All I could think of was my house, my tree, my 
Christmas. I really didn't want to go the Kansas City, You know that, 
but it turned out to be a wonderful Christmas. Thank you for my family, 
JoAnne, Ed and the twins, and my precious husband. Thank you for 
bringing Emily into my life—and the Ulijases, who we will see the day 
after tomorrow. And my neighbors, and the Temple Builders. 

And the people who left the note about the tree.” I hold the pen up and
think for a minute. “And, Holy Father, thank you for Robert B., that 
strange boy, who crossed our path. Would you please have one of your 
angels keep an eye on him?” Now I hear the shower turn off.  “And, 
Father, thank you for Jesus, the true meaning of Christmas, and eternal 
life in Him. Amen.” I turn out the lamp and go upstairs. ... Somewhere 
on a train traveling south, a thin, lanky, blonde-haired young man lays 
his head back on the headrest. The woman next to him asks, “Did you get 
home for Christmas?” 

“Yes, ma'am, I did. God has been good to me.” In the overhead bin is a
shopping bag holding a package wrapped in red and white striped paper. 
Red gloves are tucked into the pocket of the worn jacket. “God is 
good.” Smiling, he closes his eyes, and the lady watches the world go 
by in the dark starry sky. ... 

Merry Christmas, everyone! 


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