by C. A. Pack
and she switched on the lamp to look at her watch. It was ten p.m. She caught site of her little tree and smiled. She used the folding chair like a walker and pushed it toward her crutches. A sense of empowerment washed over her as she sat on the chair, leaned down, and retrieved the fallen crutches. With that problem out of the way, she grabbed a magazine Amaranda had given her and made a paper chain out of strips of the more colorful illustrations. She twisted each strip and then wet the ends and twisted them together. Her first attempt looked large and cumbersome, but time was on her side, and she used it to make a finer chain with smaller loops to suit her tree’s proportions.
She quieted her growling stomach with a peanut butter sandwich. The bag of chocolates she had purchased as an occasional treat sat in the fridge next to the bread. Each piece had been wrapped in either red or green foil for the holidays. She grabbed the candies and carefully set some of them on the tree branches. Her decorating culminated in lighting the candle she had purchased a couple of weeks before but always felt too guilty to light. The aroma of cinnamon and spice filled the air. She placed it by the tree, but not too close. I don’t want the tree to catch fire. The candlelight flickered off the bits of foil on the candies, and Johanna felt a sense of peace she hadn’t ever experienced.
It was well past midnight, and she turned her head in surprise when she heard caroling outside. She pulled back the curtain and saw a group of people walking down the block, singing.
It’s Christmas, she thought. The package she’d found on her doorstep still waited for her to unwrap it. Once again, she used her folding chair as a walker and sat on it while she picked up the parcel. She placed the package on the seat and pushed it over to the futon. She made herself comfortable before tearing off the wrapping paper. She had no idea what could be inside but knew it might be the closest she’d come to opening a gift at Christmas. Her jaw dropped when she finally cast her eyes on what was hidden inside—a first edition of Heidi—the same book she had been looking at in Artiqua Literaria. She leaned her head back against the cushion to think. The woman who owned the bookstore seemed friendly enough, but why would she give Johanna a valuable first edition? The woman didn’t look poor, but she also didn’t look like she made a habit out of giving books away. Johanna’s heart skipped a beat when she remembered the little old man—the one who had called her ‘Josefina.’ No, it can’t be. How would he even know where I live? Neither Amaranda nor Derrick had been there, nor had she told them about the book, so she felt confident it hadn’t come from either of them. She opened the cover and discovered a small envelope with her name on it. Inside, a note simply said, “Merry Christmas from one book lover to another.”
A single tear cascaded down her cheek. Someone had sent her a present—a very special gift—and she knew she would treasure it as a symbol of her newfound freedom.
And maybe like Heidi—another girl orphaned at an early age—Johanna might also find her happy ending.
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Dear Reader,
If you enjoyed this book, please take a moment to review it on Amazon, Goodreads, Barnes & Noble, or LibraryThing. Reviews are very important to indie writers like myself, and I would truly appreciate your effort.
Thank you.
Warm Regards,
C. A. Pack
If you want to read more about Johanna’s quest for independence, turn the page for a preview of—