“Still, still, still, one can hear the falling snow.
For all is hushed, the world is sleeping,
Holy star its vigil keeping.
Still, still, still, one can hear the falling snow.
“Sleep, sleep, sleep, ‘tis the eve of our Savior’s birth.
The night is peaceful all around you,
Close your eyes, let sleep surround you.
Sleep, sleep, sleep, ‘tis the eve of our Savior’s birth.
“Dream, dream, dream of the joyous day to come
While guardian angels without number,
Watch you as you sweetly slumber.
Dream, dream, dream of the joyous day to come.”
They took her breath away. She could hardly believe it! Once again Gabe had just the right touch to lift without intruding on the sopranos, and deep down, it seemed, they had heard every instruction about how to sing the piece seamlessly. If a toddler in the back row of the sanctuary had dropped a pacifier when they finished, everyone would have heard it. Lit by candles, the choir faces flushed with the pleasure of a job well done. Angela was going to hug every single one of them before they left that night.
Martin stepped in front of the congregation one final time. “What a wonderful place to bring our service to a close. I pray you find stillness not only in your body as you sleep and dream of the joy we find in God’s gift of His Son, but also stillness in your spirits as we leave this place where we have found the beauty of Bethlehem anew and now journey to our homes, soon to begin another year as followers of the child who lay in Mary’s arms. Peace be with you all. Amen.”
Angela hit the keys hard with the opening chords of “Joy to the World,” and just as she hoped, the choir burst with the words and sang to the last syllable of the last stanza.
CHAPTER 22
When there’s a dog in the house, there’s no such thing as sleeping in. Angela could always count on Blitzen to prop his head on the side of her bed. If she didn’t respond, the front paws came next as a final warning. If she didn’t at least acknowledge him, he would hoist all seventy pounds onto the bed—or more precisely, onto her. Even if she put in a doggy door, she’d have to train him to use it.
He stared her in the eye.
“Merry Christmas,” she said.
Since he bore a reindeer’s name, it seemed only fair to extend the greeting.
She let him out the back door. The full expanse of the new day—Christmas Day—lay ahead, and she would gladly take Blitzen for a walk later. Yesterday’s slight snow, when the thermostat hovered in the mid-thirties, had persisted so that enough of it was still on the ground when the temperatures dipped overnight. In the morning sun, snow glistened like a field of tiny diamonds. Angela made coffee while she waited for Blitzen to be ready to come inside. She hadn’t been to the grocery store all week, and the fridge and cupboards demonstrated the growing need. But that was for tomorrow. She knew what she wanted from today.
Blitzen was already at the back door, behavior that suggested the cool temperature and damp ground did not agree with him. He happily followed Angela upstairs for her morning preparations. After a shower, she left her hair in damp ringlets and chose comfortable jeans, a favorite sweater, and thick socks. Downstairs again, she went into the room where she gave lessons and surveyed the shelf of gifts. There was sure to be a holiday mug among them. There always was. She found two, both large and white, with squares of red and green lettering spilled around them spelling out MERRY CHRISTMAS. She took them both to the kitchen to clean thoroughly before pouring coffee into one. Then she lit the logs arranged in the living room fireplace and picked up her Bible.
She would honor Carole one more way, by reading aloud Carole’s favorite Christmas passage, the grand, poetic opening words of the Gospel of John.
“Are you listening, Blitzen?” she said. “You’ve heard these words before.”
Blitzen jumped up on the couch and curled against her, as if he wanted to share in the reading. Angela took a gulp of coffee and began to read aloud.
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.
The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”
The light shines in the darkness. The Word became a human being. And the Word was full of grace and truth. It was easy to see why someone who loved these verses also loved Christmas.
The fire’s crackling was the only sound. Angela spread her fingers and laid her hands on the open pages of her Bible with her eyes closed to let the words ring and echo in her mind.
Blitzen jumped off the couch. The sound of him trotting straight toward the front door made Angela open her eyes, and a few seconds later came the knock—and after that Blitzen’s bark.
“Take it easy, Blitzen.” Angela made sure she had a good grip on the dog’s collar before opening the door. “Gabe!”
Angela opened the door wide and Gabe came in. Blitzen’s tail wagged in rapid rhythm, and she let go of his collar.
“I brought breakfast.” Gabe held up an unmarked gray paper sack.
“First,” Angela said, “thank you. It’s slim pickings around here, though I do have coffee. Second, where did you find a place open on Christmas morning?”
“First,” Gabe said, “I would love a cup of coffee. Second, I struck a deal with Mrs. Glass at the B&B.”
Angela picked up her coffee, which needed warming up. “Come through to the kitchen. I have just the mug for today.”
She poured coffee while Gabe unpacked his bag of huge blueberry muffins and mixed fruit packed in a large container. Seeing the feast, she laid out plates and silverware.
“I didn’t get to tell you what happened last night,” Gabe said.
“You were a great help once you got there,” Angela said. “Not many would have bothered at that point in the service, and with the electricity out.”
“I would never have let you down if I could help it.” He cut a muffin in half. “I had double flats on my rental. Can you believe that?”
“Goodness,” Angela said, “and late at night on Christmas Eve.”
“I’d gone for a bit of a drive. Looking at lights, that sort of thing. I don’t even know what I ran over, but it took out both front and back on the passenger side.”
“How in the world did you find anyone to come fetch you?”
“It wasn’t easy. I’ll spare you the long story, but once I had two spare tires on, I went straight to the church.”
“I’m glad you came.”
“Me, too.”
“And the sopranos might not want to admit it, but I’m pretty sure they’d say you were very helpful.”
He lifted his “Merry Christmas” mug to his lips, his eyes twinkling as he sipped coffee. Or perhaps it was just the way they caught the light. Either way, Angela wished she could remember this moment for years. Perhaps she would. It seemed a long shot that he would stay in Spruce Valley and live in Carole’s house—his house now—but they could always talk by Skype every now and then.
Angela int
errupted the daydream by picking up her own mug. She didn’t even know what Gabe did for a living, but he must have a life to get back to. His parents? Friends? Maybe a girlfriend?
The doorbell startled them both.
“Who would that be on Christmas morning?” Angela pushed her chair away from the table.
“Could be anyone,” Gabe said. “After all, you weren’t expecting me.”
She allowed a half smile. Not expecting, precisely, but hoping. Since he had fulfilled that hope, she didn’t know who else would be at the door now. Blitzen was ahead of her down the hallway. Once again she put a couple fingers through his collar and opened the door.
“Merry Christmas!”
A red and green box moved, and Angela saw the visitor’s face. “Elinor! Merry Christmas! Come in out of the cold.”
“I won’t stay long,” Elinor said. “I have a houseful to look after. But I felt so awful about the ruined candles that I wanted to bring something I hope will persuade you to forgive me.”
“But A Christmas to Remember worked out beautifully,” Angela said. “I hold no grudge.”
“Still, I want you to have this.” Elinor offered the box.
Angela took it. “Would you like coffee?”
“I don’t want to trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble. Gabe is here, too. It’s a morning of surprises.”
Angela filled another mug with coffee and handed it to Elinor.
“Hello, Gabe,” Elinor said. “I understand you had a lot to do with saving our event as well.”
“Sweet as,” he said. “Just doing my part.”
“I’m grateful that you did.”
“Shall I open this now?” Angela said.
“I do wish you would. I promise it isn’t blue.”
Angela laughed and removed the wrapping paper to lift the lid off the square box. Inside were two golden angel candles twisting and lifting arms upward.
“They’re gorgeous!” Angela carefully lifted one.
“Yellow and white beeswax, hand dipped, rolled flat, and twisted by hand,” Elinor said. “These do not come off a factory assembly line. And the wicks are pure cotton.”
“Elinor, this is very generous.”
“I run a candle shop. I should have known better than to be so careless with seven hundred and fifty candles. I promise you, that will never happen again.”
“Thankfully there’s plenty of time to sort things out before next year.”
“I’ve got to scoot now. The minions will need their instructions for Christmas dinner.”
Angela walked Elinor to the front door and watched her get in her car. Brian was only half a block away, carrying something carefully with both hands underneath it. She went down the porch steps to meet him.
He smiled shyly. “My grandma sent a thank-you cake.”
“A thank-you cake?”
“She makes very good cakes. She wins ribbons at the county fair every year.”
“Come on inside and let’s have a look.” Angela took the cake from Brian and was relieved to realize that although it was a round cake carrier under a kitchen towel, it was situated on a solid cookie sheet. “Gabe’s inside. I’m sure he’d want to say hello.”
Brian nodded. He stepped ahead of her to hold the door open and then followed her through to the kitchen.
“Brian, my mate,” Gabe said.
“He’s brought me a thank-you cake,” Angela said, “though I’m not sure what for.”
“Because of what you did for Grandpa,” Brian said. “Taking him to the hospital and then checking on him. She thought you were very nice.”
“I hope your grandpa is doing well,” Angela said.
Brian nodded. “We always have Christmas at their house. But this year Grandma is bossing him around more than she usually does.”
Gabe and Angela let loose with laughter.
“Take the lid off,” Brian said.
Angela followed his instruction and was met with a personalized greeting on the cake. “Thank you, Angela!” she read.
“Brian, you were so helpful,” Angela said. “You deserve a cake, too.”
He grinned. “Grandma always makes three cakes for Christmas. I get to choose which one I want to take home.”
“Sweet as!” Gabe said. “She is a fine gran.”
Blitzen barked once before trotting to the front door again. Angela caught Gabe’s eye and they both laughed. With all the distractions, her coffee was long cold.
Brian put the lid back on the cake carrier. “Mom told me not to stay too long. She’s making brunch for everyone.”
“Sounds delicious.” Angela walked him to the door only to be greeted by two visitors bearing gifts. “Blitzen, stay.”
His tail wagged furiously, but he showed no sign of bolting, so she allowed him to stand at her knee.
“Nora and Jasmine. Merry Christmas to you both.” Angela touched the back of Brian’s shoulder as he departed. Nora and Jasmine were an unusual duo. She looked from one to the other.
“I won’t take up your time,” Jasmine said. “The committee just wanted to be sure we expressed our thanks. With this.” She proffered a gift basket wrapped in pale silver cellophane and tied with a large blue bow.
Angela took the unexpected basket. “Thank you.”
“You did a wonderful job under difficult circumstances.”
A few days ago, Angela would have had a thing or two to say about why the circumstances were difficult, starting with how she seemed to be the last person in town to find out it would be up to her to make sure A Christmas to Remember was worth remembering. But she’d come out of that tunnel.
“It’s just gourmet teas and coffees,” Jasmine said. “My kids had a wonderful time coming out of the dark to sing. They can’t wait to do it again next year. How did you ever figure out how to make the lights come on just a few at a time? It was magical.”
Angela tilted her head and smiled. Some things were best kept shrouded in mystery—especially since she didn’t know the answer.
“Thank you,” she said, “to the whole committee.”
Nora pressed a package into Angela’s hands as well. “Just something for your dog. For Blitzen. Just a throw toy. Maybe he’ll like it.”
Angela smiled and looked down. “Did you hear that, Blitzen? You got a Christmas present!”
“If you ever need someone to walk him,” Nora said, “just let me know.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind.”
“Have a wonderful day.” Nora scampered down the front steps. “Merry Christmas!”
“I’ll get out of your way, too,” Jasmine said. “I was thinking that my older boy might like piano lessons. Do you have any openings?”
“We can work something out. Why don’t I call you after New Year’s?”
“Thank you. I look forward to it. Everyone says you’re the best teacher.”
Angela stood there, with her basket of teas and a wrapped throw toy, barely recognizing the woman walking back to her car.
She stepped back into the house, closed the heavy front door, and leaned on it. Gabe came toward her.
“Everything all right?” he said.
“Better than all right. I was expecting a quiet morning, but this was not a bad turn of events.”
“I hope I’m not in the way.”
“Oh, no, of course not. You could never be in the way.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that, and I hope you feel that way in three months or six.”
She looked at him.
“I saw my aunt’s lawyer the other day,” Gabe said. “The lease will be up soon on the house.”
Angela held her breath.
“I’ve always wanted to live in America. I’m going to give it a go.”
“But … New Zealand … your life … everything you’d be leaving behind,” Angela said. “And won’t you need a visa or a green card or something?”
“Got that covered.”
“You have?”
>
Gabe thumbed his chest. “Dual citizen.”
The thought hadn’t occurred to Angela, but it seemed perfectly plain now. Gabe’s grandmother had been a US citizen, and when she moved to New Zealand, she held in her arms her own son. Gabe’s father was a US citizen, so of course Gabe was as well.
“And you’ll live in Carole’s house?” she said.
He nodded.
“She’d like that,” Angela said.
“I think it’s what she had in mind all along.”
Angela smiled and nodded.
“We have seen his glory … full of grace and truth.”
REFLECTION QUESTIONS
CHRISTMAS IN GOLD
1. As a child, Astrid faced one difficult circumstance after another. In what ways might these sorts of losses shape the spirit and make us more able or less able to respond to losses that come to us later?
2. Inevitably we will all face multiple painful losses. Yet, we also take something forward each time as well. What experiences have you had with loss that you have carried with you, not to diminish pain of loss but perhaps to better understand its meaning?
3. The pain of our own loss can be so encompassing that it’s difficult to see what value it may have beyond our own lives. In what ways have you seen your own experiences with loss bear redemptive fruit, as Astrid’s did, in the life of someone you did not imagine knowing at the time of your loss?
4. Think back on your own experiences of struggling with difficult circumstances and loss. What does it feel like to give up hope? What does it feel like to recover a sense of hope? What makes the difference?
CHRISTMAS IN BLUE
1. Angela’s sense of loss of her friend who loved Christmas led to dreading the first Christmas without Carole. In what ways have you seen your own experience of loss cause you to dread an upcoming season or event? How did you handle your own sense of dread?
2. When the town’s celebration landed in Angela’s lap, it felt like more than she could handle. Loss can be isolating; it may feel as if no one else understands how you feel, and since grief is an individual experience, the feeling is quite true. How do you manage your own feelings of loss when it feels more like they are managing you?
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