What was this? He unfolded it and found a colored picture of an old wooden stable and a manger that glowed like the sun. Around it stood different crayoned characters Earl couldn’t quite make out. But the most striking part was the girl’s message, scrawled across the bottom of the page:
Christmas miracles happen to those who believe. Love, Gideon
Earl’s heart hesitated. They were the same words the girl had shared with him that first night when she worked at the mission. He blinked and read the words again. What was he supposed to feel? Sadness? Truth? Hope? Those things had died from his life years ago. Yet, something strange and unfamiliar stirred in his soul. Hadn’t Molly drawn a picture like that the Christmas before she—
That was enough. He had promised himself he wouldn’t let the gift get to him. He folded the picture, careful not to add any creases. Then he tucked it carefully into his pocket and reached inside the bag for the gift.
The moment his fingers made contact with the soft material of whatever lay inside, Earl knew it wasn’t a scarf or a hat. The feeling was almost familiar. And it wasn’t one thing; it was two. He peered inside again and this time pulled out the contents.
As he did, as he stared at the matching items, the ground beneath him gave way. His head felt disconnected from his body, and he dropped to his knees.
I’m dreaming. He blinked hard several times, but still the gift was there. How could it be? It was completely out of the question. Impossible.
The child had never met him before that first mission dinner. She couldn’t possibly have known. Besides, how had she found them? They’d been stolen seven weeks ago. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Nothing made sense.
But still there was no disputing the evidence in his hands. The child had given him a pair of handmade red gloves. Gloves that looked exactly the same as those he’d lost.
They… they couldn’t be. Could they? How could she have found them? Earl leaned back on his heels, his body trembling. He peeled back the cuff of one of the gloves… and his heart sank. Anne’s initials weren’t there. Instead, stitched inside was this message: Believe.
He blinked three times, but still the words remained. What was this? These gloves were exactly like his gloves. His red gloves. There couldn’t have been two pairs like this. They were Anne’s very own creation, the work of her hands. And yet, where were her initials?
He reminded himself to breathe. And then he brought the gloves to his face and breathed them in. They were his; they had to be. They hadn’t changed since the last time he’d worn them.
A sudden downpour of memories overtook him as he buried his face into the red wool. What was it Anne had prayed for him? That God would blow the roof off his safe little box and leave him no choice but to believe? Yes, that was it. That’s exactly what Anne had prayed all those years ago.
He peeked at the inside of the glove once more. Believe. It was still there. With a sudden thought, he pulled back the cuff on the other glove. It was the same as the last. Anne’s initials were gone, but the single word was there—in clean, new white thread.
Believe.
A chill worked its way down his spine.
Oh, Anne.
No wonder he could hear her voice as plain as the hum of nearby traffic. God had blown the roof off. Somehow this God he hadn’t wanted to believe in had done the one thing that left him no choice but to believe.
“God?”
He opened his eyes and stared toward heaven. No matter that the sky above Portland was flat and utterly dark. In that moment he could see beyond it to a place that wasn’t a figment of other people’s imagination. It was real. As real as God and miracles and life itself.
As real as Christmas.
Tears spilled from his eyes and he covered his face with the gloves once more. Suddenly he remembered the little girl. Gideon. He pictured her face, her piercing, innocent eyes. She’d spoken to him when most people would have avoided the idea, cared for him even after he’d shouted at her. And bought him the greatest gift of all, without receiving either a thank-you or even a smile.
What had he told her? That he didn’t like people and he didn’t like her. His insides tightened at the memory. What a wretched man he’d become. Anne wouldn’t even recognize him. Neither would Molly.
He clutched the red gloves in his fists and slipped them onto his hands, one finger at a time. Next he carefully folded the brown bag and found a pocket where it would stay dry. Poor little girl. She’d worked so hard on the gift. How could he have been so mean hearted?
His tears became sobs and he looked up once more. He had been terrible to the child, his behavior unconscionable. He’d told her to get lost. And when she’d wished him a Merry Christmas, he’d barked at her that he hated the holiday.
As though even God was grieved by his terrible behavior, a steady rain began to fall, splattering on his face and mingling with his tears.
“What have I done, God?” His words echoed down the alley. “Forgive me. Please, forgive me!”
The rain fell harder, but he didn’t care. He stayed there, his gloved hands tucked deep inside his jacket, allowing himself to be drenched by the downpour, washed clean from all he’d once been. The wetter he grew, the more layers melted away. “I believe in you, God! I do!”
God was real. The red gloves proved it. No matter how badly he had messed up, God wasn’t finished with him. Not yet. Right there and then, in the middle of a freezing downpour, a burst of sunshine exploded in his heart. He didn’t want to die; he wanted to live—to make his life good and wonderful and true, something Anne and Molly would have been proud of. The flame of their faith hadn’t gone out that terrible afternoon. It lived. First in the memory of how they’d loved him, and now in the burst of life deep within his soul. No wonder he had felt compelled to open Gideon’s gift. Look what it had done to him.
The rain continued, but he no longer cried. His face felt strange, pinched almost, and in a burst of understanding he realized why.
He was smiling.
A smile so big and bold it stretched into uncharted areas of his face, places that had forgotten the feeling. He had his red gloves back! They had to be his; he was determined to believe it. The unfathomable had happened. Somewhere in the city of Portland that little sprite of a girl had found his gloves. Maybe in a bin of old clothing or at the mission or maybe from a secondhand store. However it had happened, she’d found them. Then—not knowing what they meant to him—she’d made a decision to take them home, wrap them, and give them to him for Christmas.
What were the odds of that? How could such a thing be anything but an act of God?
God was real after all. Watching over Earl as surely as somewhere he was watching over Anne and Molly. He struggled to his feet and he realized something else. He felt different—lighter, more alive. Gideon’s generosity had changed him, changed everything. It had brought about a miracle amidst the stench and emptiness.
Because of a child’s generosity, Earl was no longer a hopeless street person. He was a believer whose life was about to change. And the place where he stood was not the freezing wet pavement of a neglected alleyway.
It was holy ground.
A hundred ideas raced through his mind. Things he wanted to do. Things he needed to do… now that he believed. He made a mental list, almost bursting with excitement at what the days ahead might bring.
Then another thought occurred to him. All of this had happened three days before Christmas! The same day that he’d lost everything five years ago.
His knees shook. Without waiting another minute, he strode toward his shanty home. This time he kept his eyes up, soaking in everything about the city. The damp air and bare maple trees, the cold stone walls and fancy Adidas billboard. The blanket of lights that marked the hills around downtown. Even the trash cans behind Tara’s Diner, the place where he scrounged soggy French bread and leftover lasagna when the mission wasn’t serving.
He wanted to remember it all. B
ecause with God’s help, in a very few days he would leave the streets for good. And he never wanted to forget the place where God had found him.
But there was one thing he had to do before leaving. Tomorrow he would find D. J. at the mission and ask him about the child. He owed her his life, after all. Her gift had given him more than he could ever repay. But at least he could apologize, and certainly he could thank her.
The way he should have when the child handed him the gift.
That night after Earl had tucked himself beneath his new tarp, after he’d kissed the woolen palms of his gloves and bid his girls good night, he didn’t dream about the past. Neither did he sleep. Rather, he stayed awake, wide-eyed, and dreamed of something he hadn’t thought about in five years: his future. A future he believed in. One that was suddenly as real as God himself.
And as possible as a Christmas miracle.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gideon lay as still as she could.
Not just because it hurt too much to move. But because the doctor said she should rest if she wanted to get better. And she wanted that very much. If she was even a little better the doctor said she could go home tomorrow—Christmas Eve—and spend a few days with her family.
She angled her head and stared out the window. The rain was gone, but the clouds were still there. Snow clouds, maybe. Dustin had said the kids at school were talking about snow. Lots of snow. Everyone wanted a white Christmas.
She sank deeper into the pillow. Snow didn’t matter. She couldn’t play outside anyway. But if the weather got that cold, where would Earl go? Where did people without homes sleep when the ground was covered with snow?
If only he’d opened the gift. Then at least his hands would be warm.
She thought back to that day at the secondhand store. She’d wanted the gift to be perfect, but until she saw the red gloves she hadn’t been sure what to get him. She had walked the aisles with her father looking at socks and a flashlight and an old blanket. The socks hadn’t seemed thick enough and the flashlight had needed batteries. The old blanket cost too much. Daddy said lots of stuff at the secondhand store wasn’t practical for a man like Earl.
Then she’d found the gloves.
They were soft and thick and red like Christmas. Her father had said they were long enough for a man’s hands. Even a big man like Earl. Gideon figured they’d help Earl stay warm on the streets. She also figured they’d make him believe again.
That’s why she’d asked her mom to help her sew the word inside both of them. Believe. Because that’s what she wanted for Earl more than warm hands. That he might believe again.
If he had only opened the gift that night at the mission. Maybe then it would have happened. And she would have had her Christmas miracle. The one she’d prayed for.
But it was too late now. Christmas was almost here. D. J. from the mission had told her dad last night that Earl wasn’t wearing the gloves when he came for dinner. No one knew what he’d done with her gift, or if he’d ever opened it.
So there’d been no miracle after all, even though she’d believed with her whole heart. A tear rolled onto her cheek and she brushed it away with her fingertips. Her teacher must have been wrong. Christmas miracles didn’t happen to those who believed. They didn’t happen at all. Maybe they were just part of the olden days, like in the Bible.
She breathed out and it sounded sad in the quiet room. She was pretty sure she was sicker than before, because her parents cried all the time. When she’d first come to stay in the hospital one of them was always with her. But after a few days they’d had to go to work and Dustin had to go to school. Now they came every night. They would hold her hands, play with what was left of her hair, and turn their backs when they had to cry. She pretended not to notice. They had cried a lot last time she got sick, too. When she let their tears worry her, it only made them sadder.
There was a pain in her leg. She moved it. Sometimes sliding it to another spot on the sheets made it feel better. Not today, though. She made a face and watched a bird land on her windowsill.
“Hi, little birdie.” Her words were slow and quiet. “Hi.” The bird hopped two times and flew away.
She stared at the clouds again. The pain wasn’t so bad when she didn’t think about it.
The thing was this time it hurt worse. Not in one spot, but all over. Sort of like a flu bug. And things her parents had said lately made her think maybe this time she was sicker. Once in a while when they thought she wasn’t listening, the doctor would talk to her mom and dad about something called a transplant. She had heard that word before, but she didn’t know what it was.
Maybe a medicine or a special tool that would make her better.
She wasn’t sure, but whatever it was it cost too much. Otherwise the doctor would have already given it to her. That was okay. God was with her, and he would take care of her no matter what happened.
But God, whatever happens to me, please let me go home for
Christmas. Of course, she might not get better. Kids died from cancer sometimes. Once when she and her dad had gone over for a treatment, a man and woman were crying in the waiting room. She hadn’t meant to stare, but she couldn’t help it. Later she asked her nurse why the people were sad.
“Their daughter died this morning,” the nurse told her.
“Died?”
“Yes. She’d been fighting cancer for three years.” There were lines on the nurse’s forehead and her eyes looked tired. “Today she lost the battle.”
After that Gideon had had a different way of thinking about cancer. It wasn’t just a bad sickness, like a long cold or an ear infection. It was a battle. And if you lost the battle, you could die.
She yawned.
Death would be sad because she would miss her mom and dad and Dustin. But it wouldn’t be scary. Her parents had always talked about heaven and in the secret places of her heart, she was sort of excited to go there. Streets of gold. No more pain. No more tears. Besides, one day her family would be there, too.
After she knew the truth about cancer and how bad it could be, she wanted her parents to know she wasn’t afraid. She’d told them a few days ago when she was first put in the hospital.
“Heaven will be wonderful, don’t you think?” She’d looked straight up, first at her mother, then at her father.
Her dad squeezed her hand. “Sure, honey, it’ll be great.” His eyes were red and wet, and when he smiled his chin moved up and down. “But not for a long time, okay?”
“So we can all go together, you mean?”
“That’s right, sweetheart.”
As good as heaven seemed, her dad was probably right. It’d be better to wait until they were all old. That way they could be there together without having to wait.
She yawned again and turned onto her side. She was tired all the time lately, but that was a good thing. When she slept she had the most wonderful dreams. She felt her body relax. The sounds and lights and even the pain began to go away.
Gradually she fell asleep and a glorious city appeared before her eyes. Sparkling gold buildings and bright blue streams that ran along either side of the street. Up ahead was a man she didn’t quite recognize. She took a few steps forward, then a few more, and suddenly she could see the man’s face. It was Earl! Only his clothes weren’t tattered and his face was smooth. He wasn’t angry, either. In fact… Yes! She took a step closer and she could see it was true. He was smiling! And there was something different in his eyes. She tried to think of what it was…
Earl believed! That was it, she was sure. His eyes looked all glowing and clean.
Then Earl turned around and started to leave.
“Wait! Don’t go!” she called after him, but he didn’t hear her.
“You will stay, Gideon.”
“Who said that?” She spun around and there, beside her, was a tall man with shining hair.
He reached for her hand. “You’ll like it. We have a palace ready for you.”
What was this place? And why weren’t her parents here? What about Earl? If he could leave, why couldn’t she?
Then she realized where she was. Of course. She was in heaven. Cancer had won the battle and now she was here. It wasn’t supposed to feel sad, but it did. Just a little. Not because it wasn’t wonderful, but because her mom and dad and Dustin weren’t here. And that meant somewhere they were crying and missing her.
Just like she missed them.
“Earl!” she called after him once more and this time he turned around.
“Gideon. I thought that was you.” He stayed in his spot, far away. But she could still see his face. He looked like maybe he was crying. “Thank you, Gideon. Thank you so much. Thank you… thank you… thank you…”
His voice got quieter with each word. Gideon shook her head, confused. She looked up at the tall man beside her. “Why’s he telling me thank you?”
The man said nothing. A smile moved across his face and he pointed back at Earl.
This time when she looked she saw something she hadn’t before and she breathed in sharp and quick.
He was wearing the gloves! The red gloves she’d given him for Christmas!
She tugged on the hand of the man beside her. “Look at his hands!” Her happy heart lifted her and she began to fly around the golden city like an angel.
Earl was wearing the red gloves!
From her place in the clouds she looked at Earl once more to make sure it was true. It was. Earl waved at her with both arms and smiled again as he disappeared through a gate in the city. Gideon came down from the clouds and landed near the tall man, but his voice began to fade. In fact, everything was fading. The man with the shining hair, the golden city, and even the road she was standing on.
Bit by bit the light returned and Gideon opened her eyes. A nurse stood beside her with a fresh bag of medicine. She wasn’t in heaven; she was in the hospital. Earl hadn’t changed. He’d probably never even opened her gift.
It had all been a dream. But that fact didn’t leave her sad like after other dreams. Because this time she had a feeling God was trying to tell her something very special.
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