For A Father's Love

by JoAnn A. Grote

  December passed in a blur except for two events the week before Christmas. The first was a Christmas card that arrived—looking innocent and cheery in a bright red envelope—with a stack of other cards and advertisements. Ellen spotted it at the end of a busy day as she went through the mail while Mandy checked the receipts against the register.

  Ellen held the red envelope toward Mandy. “From Zach to me and the girls.”

  “Aren’t you going to open it?”

  Ellen scrunched her nose in distaste. “Suppose I better. He may be writing to say he’s planning to spend Christmas with us.” She slit the envelope with the letter opener, pulled out a card with a picture of Santa Claus, and opened it. “I don’t believe it.” Ellen’s voice sounded strangled.

  “What?”

  Ellen handed her a wallet-sized photo. It was a picture of Zach and a woman with short brown hair.

  “According to this signature, they’re married.”

  “Married? He moves fast.”

  “I guess he hasn’t changed his courting technique.”

  Mandy remembered the whirlwind romance between Ellen and Zach. “Are you okay with this?”

  “I don’t have another choice, do I?” Ellen’s eyes flashed. “I don’t mind for myself. I just hope it doesn’t hurt the girls too badly.”

  “I guess this means he’s not coming home for Christmas.”

  “Says they’re spending it with the new wife’s family in San Jose. At least the girls won’t spend another holiday waiting for him to show up.”

  Mandy handed the picture back. “Will you tell the girls about his new wife?”

  “I suppose they need to know. Maybe I’ll wait until after Christmas. That news isn’t exactly on their Christmas wish list.”

  The second event that stood out for Mandy was Jason’s delivery of a burlap-bagged Fraser fir to the store. “You said you wanted the girls to have their own Christmas tree,” he reminded Mandy. “I asked Beth if anyone had set one up yet and she said no, so. . .” He shrugged. “I know you prefer the live trees, so I brought this. Would you like me to carry it up to the loft?”

  He placed it, at Mandy’s request, in the loft’s small dining area.

  “We use the area in the store near the fireplace as our living room when the store’s closed,” she said, “but there are so many trees in the store. This one will seem more personal up here.”

  The girls jumped up and down in excitement when they saw the tree upon arriving home from school. Then they raced off to find and thank Jason.

  Ellen insisted they wait until the store closed for the night before trimming the tree. “After all, it’s Mandy’s tree too. We all want the fun of trimming it.” Ellen brought out red and green construction paper, children’s scissors, and glue; and the girls filled the time waiting for Mandy by making paper chains for the tree.

  When they grew tired of making chains, Beth asked, “Can we make cotton-ball snowmen, like Jason did when he was little?”

  Ellen brought out cotton balls and improvised. Later she told Mandy, “I forgot children don’t make Christmas ornaments in school anymore, the way we did when we were children.”

  Ellen dug out the small box of ornaments from the Christmases shared with Zach. She confided in Mandy her concern that some of the ornaments might awaken melancholy emotions in the girls, but that didn’t happen. Beth’s and Bonnie’s favorite ornaments proclaimed “baby’s first Christmas” for the years they were born.

  There was no theme to the tree, as there were to those in the Christmas shop. The ornaments were a combination of sizes and shapes, some expensive and some recently handmade by the girls. It gave the children great joy, which caused Mandy to think it the loveliest tree ever.

  The family Christmas tree became a constant reminder to Mandy of Jason’s kind, thoughtful nature and of his love for children—Beth and Bonnie in particular. A constant reminder that one day he’d make some blessed children a wonderful father.

  A constant reminder that she wouldn’t be the woman sharing his life and future children.

  So she poured her energy even more strongly into the store.

  And, suddenly, it was Christmas Eve.

  Mandy shared Beth and Bonnie’s enthusiasm when the first snow of the season began around noon. The flakes were large and fluffy and lovely against the background of evergreens. Perfect for a white Christmas, yet light enough that Mandy didn’t fear it might cause trouble for travelers.

  She released a sigh of relief as she hung the “closed” sign on the door at three-thirty. Most likely a few last-minute customers would straggle by, knock loudly, and plead for an opportunity to take one more look for the perfect gift. Mandy knew she’d let them in as long as they didn’t keep her from making it to church on time. She wasn’t about to miss Beth in the Christmas play.

  Ellen and the girls were already at the church, so Mandy had the loft to herself. She put on a new dark green velvet dress. It slid easily over the hips and waist, off which she constantly promised to whittle a few inches—and never did.

  Viewing herself in the oak-framed standing mirror, she nodded approval. The simple, unadorned dress with its princess-cut flattered her figure and her hair. And matched the fir-green eyes Jason used to say were beautiful.

  She’d reluctantly accepted Grandma Tillie’s invitation to drive to the church with her, Grandpa Seth, and Jason. It seemed childish to say, “No, thank you. I don’t even want to be in the same car as your grandson.”

  Grandma Tillie must know something had happened between her and Jason, but she hadn’t asked questions. It was like her to allow people to work out their own solutions.

  True to Mandy’s expectation, two customers stopped by before she left for church. She warned them of her plans, but she doubted they’d have completed their shopping before midnight if Jason hadn’t entered the store and announced he and his grandparents were ready to leave.

  The snow was still falling when Mandy approached the car, and she thrilled to the winter beauty. The wind was still, and she loved the sh-sh-sh sound the snow made as it drifted down through the trees.

  Jason held the front passenger door open for her. His grandparents sat in the backseat, so she climbed into the front seat beside him.

  She smiled brightly at the older couple. “Blessed Christmas.” When they’d returned her greeting, she explained, “I read that in the United States before the twentieth century ‘Blessed Christmas’ was the common Christmas greeting instead of the ‘Merry Christmas’ popular today.”

  “How lovely,” Grandma Tillie exclaimed as Jason turned onto the highway. “I think I’ll adopt it myself. Is Beth still excited about the Christmas drama?” she then asked.

  “I think she’s looking forward to it more than she is to opening her Christmas presents.” Mandy’s comment elicited chuckles from the others. “She brought her favorite life-sized baby doll to use as the baby Jesus. Also a blue wool blanket that was a gift when she was a baby.”

  “I thought people gave girl babies pink blankets,” Jason said, his gaze on the snow-covered road.

  “Babies get every color blanket these days,” Grandma Tillie told him.

  Jason grinned. “Beth didn’t take swaddling clothes?”

  “Oh, she did.” Mandy shook her head. “You are in so much trouble with Ellen over those, Jason.”

  “Me?”

  “You’re the one who told Beth about swaddling clothes. Beth insisted the baby Jesus in the play needs them. Ellen tore an old sheet into strips and told Beth to use them for swaddling clothes. What the well-dressed baby doll wears in a Christmas play.”

  Gramps spoke up from the backseat. “Is Zach going to delay our Christmas dinner tonight?”

  “Seth.” Gram sounded for all the world like Ellen scolding the girls.

  “What? I want to know if I’m going to eat on time.”

  Mandy told them of Zach’s marriage.

  “Lousy Christmas present for Beth and Bonnie.” A
nger clipped Jason’s words.

  “Ellen told them Zach’s spending Christmas in California. She’s going to wait until after Christmas to tell the girls he’s remarried.” Mandy sighed. “Beth’s class drew pictures of their families in school this week. Beth’s picture includes only herself, Bonnie, Ellen, and me.”

  Jason scowled at the road. “So Zach’s out of the picture. That man doesn’t know what he’s given away.”

  The drive into town didn’t take long. When the group entered the vestibule, they found Ellen and Bonnie waiting for them. They all sat together, but Mandy was glad that Ellen’s presence made it a simple matter to avoid sitting beside Jason. She knew with him beside her, she’d have been distracted from the service.

  The program was simple. The Christmas story was presented through the play. The children acted out the story as it was read from the Bible. Hymns—some solos, some sung by choirs, some in which the congregation joined—introduced at appropriate places in the story added to the beauty of the service.

  Mandy, Ellen, and the rest of their group sat up a little straighter when Beth came onto the stage area in front of the altar.

  Beth sat down on a stool behind the manger and carefully adjusted her white robe. Moments later, the narrator read the Scripture which told how Mary “brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger”(kjv).

  With a solemn expression, Beth picked up her doll from behind the manger. The doll was wrapped in sheet strips.

  Mandy could hear the stifled chuckles from all the adults in her group. She longed to lean forward, catch Jason’s glance, and share this moment with him, but she resisted.

  Beth held the doll in her arms and gazed lovingly at it, then laid it gently in the straw-filled manger. Next she picked up the blue blanket from behind the manger and spread the blanket over the doll with exaggerated care.

  The drama held a strong impact, in spite of the many times Mandy had heard the story, and in spite of the funny, endearing moments provided by Beth and the other players.

  When the story ended, the pastor rose and walked to the podium, bringing the congregation back from two thousand years ago to the present. He smiled out at the people. “Well. There’s so little that one can add to that story.”

  Murmurs of agreement came from the congregation.

  “But maybe a reminder of the reason for Jesus’ birth isn’t out of line. I read from First John, chapter four, verses seven through eleven.” He opened his Bible.

  “ ‘Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.’ ”

  The pastor closed his Bible and looked out at the congregation. “Dear friends, this Christmas, may you go in love; may you go with God.”

  ❧

  A gust of wind tossed Mandy’s muffler and tugged at her hair as she left the church with Ellen and the girls. Mandy caught her breath in surprise. Blowing, stinging snow had replaced the large, lazy flakes that had drifted down when they arrived. In the light from streetlamps she saw snow thick in the air. Almost three inches of the white stuff covered Ellen’s windshield. Mandy reminded herself Ellen’s car had been parked at the church an hour and a half longer than Grandpa Seth’s.

  “I’m sure glad you’re riding back with us, Mandy,” Ellen said as she opened the back door of her car for the girls. “I hate driving in storms. Hope we don’t slide into a ditch or something. I didn’t bring a cell phone. Did you?”

  Mandy shook her head. “No.”

  “There’s a flashlight in the car. At least we’ll have light if we need to walk for any reason.”

  “Cheerful thought.” Mandy wished they were back at the farm, safe and sound.

  A shadow came toward them through the swirling snow. It turned out to be Jason. “Roads might be slippery, Ellen. I’ll follow you.” Then he faded back into the storm.

  The drive back was trickier than the drive into town had been. When they passed the area of the mountain where Tom’s Christmas nativity was displayed, Mandy pointed it out to the girls. “See where that dim glow of lights is?”

  “That’s the stable?” Beth squinted, trying to see through the early evening darkness and the storm. “I can’t see it.”

  “It’s there. Probably covered with snow.”

  They arrived back at the farm, grateful they’d had no mishaps. Ellen parked beside Jason, near the farmhouse since Grandma Tillie had invited them to Christmas Eve dinner.

  Beth zipped her doll inside her jacket before getting out of the car. She and Bonnie raced for the front door, followed closely by Mandy and Ellen. Once in the shelter of the porch, they and the Kramers brushed snow from their coats.

  Jason undid Beth’s plum chenille scarf and shook the snow from it. “By tomorrow there’ll be enough snow to build snowmen. Let’s have a contest.”

  “How do you have a snowman contest?” Beth asked as he settled the thick muffler back around her neck.

  “We make up teams, and each team builds a snowman. You and Beth can be a team, and Mandy and Ellen can be another team, and I can be a team.”

  “What about Grandma Tillie and Grandpa Seth?”

  “They can be the judges.”

  “I don’t want to build a snowman,” Bonnie announced, entering the house while Jason held the door. “I’m going to build a snow lady.” Her eyes sparkled with laughter. “Then it can wear one of Grandma Tillie’s hats.”

  Once they were inside, Mandy helped Bonnie out of her jacket. “Did I tell you yet how pretty you look in your red Christmas dress with its lace collar, Bonnie?”

  “Thanks. When do we open our presents?”

  “Bonnie.” Ellen, on her knees beside them trying to unzip Beth’s coat—still extended from the doll beneath—glared at Bonnie.

  Ellen’s scolding-mother tone didn’t disturb Bonnie at all. “What? I didn’t say anything I’m not supposed to.”

  “I told you tonight’s schedule before we went to church.”

  “I forget.”

  Mandy intervened. “First we eat the great dinner Grandma Tillie prepared for us. Doesn’t it smell good?”

  Bonnie put her head back and took an exaggerated sniff of the tantalizing odor of roast beef.

  Ellen groaned and gave Mandy a glance filled with frustration. “What’s a mother to do?”

  “Then we open presents after dinner?” Bonnie asked.

  “After the dishes are done,” Ellen reminded. “We left the presents at the store, remember? Grandpa Seth and Grandma Tillie and J. P. are coming down to the Christmas barn with us. We’re going to light a fire in the fireplace and open presents in front of it.”

  “I wish we were opening presents right now,” Bonnie declared with a pout.

  “Me too.” Beth, finally freed from her jacket, grasped Bonnie’s hand. “Let’s go play dolls.” They headed off together, Beth still carrying her doll, safe and warm in its blue blanket.

  Ellen reached for Mandy’s hand and gave her an exaggerated smile. “Come on. Let’s go play house.”

  Laughing, they headed to the kitchen to help Gram.

  The meal tasted every bit as wonderful as Gram’s Thanksgiving feast. Gram scolded at Gramps’s portions and choices, and he scolded her back for nagging—bringing indulgent smiles from the other adults. The wind howled around the corners of the old house, but the sound only added to the warm and cozy family feeling. Mandy sensed the undercurrent of anticipation in the girls, eager to open their gifts. I’m so glad this holiday isn’t spoiled for them by waiting for Zach to arrive.

  Mandy avoided looking at Jason, who sat at one end of the rectangul
ar table, opposite Gramps, whom Mandy sat beside. At Thanksgiving, our kisses were still in the future. Now they’re already in the past, and we have no future.

  She turned her mind purposely to the conversation around her, reminding herself that Jason wasn’t the only person in her heart. Every person at this table was a loved one. And that’s a blessing worth waking up for every day.

  After the meal, the adults, to the children’s chagrin, decided to linger over a cup of coffee before beginning the cleanup.

  “We’ll never get to open presents,” Bonnie complained.

  “When we grow up, we’re going to open presents first,” Beth announced. “Come on, Bonnie. Let’s go play Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus.”

  “Can I be Mary?” Bonnie pleaded as she followed Beth.

  “You can take some towels from the bathroom for your robes,” Gram called after them.

  When the dishes were cleared, Jason and Gramps set up the chess set on the dining room table. Gramps grinned across the table at Jason. “Let’s see whether I can whip you at this before the womenfolk get done in the kitchen.”

  Forty-five minutes later, the women were putting the last of the dishes away when Gramps said, “Checkmate,” and ended the game, chortling. As he and Jason put the chess pieces away, Gram removed her terry-cloth apron with its holly design and smiled at Mandy and Ellen. “Well, I guess it’s time we head down to your place and let the little ones at their presents.”

  Anticipation at the girls’ excitement gave off a warm glow in Mandy’s chest as she went with Ellen to tell Bonnie and Beth that The Hour had finally arrived. At the door into the living room, Mandy and Ellen stopped. Beth’s baby doll lay on the sofa alongside a doll of Bonnie’s, but no one was in the room.

  A small frown showed Ellen’s minor annoyance. “I guess they’re playing in one of the bedrooms. I’ve told them not to go in them without Grandma Tillie’s permission.”

  “I’m sure they aren’t getting into anything they shouldn’t,” Mandy reassured. “They’re probably looking for Grandma Tillie’s old hats.”