The house staff was off for the day, and her mother and grandmother were upstairs. She stood, stretched, and went to the foyer. They weren’t expecting anyone, so maybe it was a delivery. They delivered on Christmas Eve, didn’t they? If presents needed to get somewhere, right?
She opened the door. “Hello?”
On the step stood a man dressed in Army gear. In his hand he held a worn-looking paper sack. Something about him was familiar, and for half a second she wondered if he was her father. But that was impossible. He might be alive, but he was in Iraq, not Washington, D.C. Whoever the man was, his cheeks were red and he stared at her like he was seeing a ghost.
Just then she had a sudden fear and she took two steps backward. What if he’d come on official Army business, to tell her that her father was dead? Would the Army do that to her? On Christmas Eve? She took another step back. “Can … can I help you?”
He didn’t look at her, he looked through her. And the “something familiar” was more so all the time. Then he swallowed and said, “Hannah?”
Her heart beat faster than before. “Yes?” Why did he look at her that way? Was this how it happened? How families found out that someone they loved was gone? She wanted to close her eyes and make him go away, but it was too late. The conversation had already begun. Now she’d have to see it through.
Then, the Army man’s eyes welled with tears. He swallowed and took a step forward. “Hannah … I’m your father.”
Her body shook and she felt dizzy, so dizzy she had to grab the doorframe to keep from falling. “Dad?” How could he be here? He was supposed to be in Iraq, a prisoner of war. His commander thought he was dead, right?
She blinked, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. “How could… I can’t believe it” Her voice faded to nothing before she finished the sentence.
“Look at you, Hannah.” A tear rolled down one of his cheeks. “You’re all grown up.”
And suddenly she knew it was him, knew it because the eyes were the same as the ones in the photographs. But more than that, they were the eyes from her memory. In a rush she ran to him. Her red-gloved hands went around his waist and she pressed her cheek to his chest. “I never forgot you, Daddy.”
He shook against her, and Hannah could tell he was crying. They stayed that way for a while, holding on as if by doing so they could somehow find the years they’d lost. When he finally drew back a little, he searched her eyes. “I looked for you every chance I had.” He held out the brown paper sack. “I kept this with me.”
Hannah took the fragile bag and opened it. From inside she pulled out a folded piece of paper. She handed the bag back to her dad and opened the sheet. It was tattered and creased, but clearly it was a picture she’d drawn for her father. Across the top she’d written Hannah loves Daddy.
In an instant the memory came back. She was sitting at a small table, her father across from her. They were both coloring, weren’t they? And hers had been a drawing of the two of them, her and her father, complete with their oversized silly grins and the big sun ball in the sky.
A picture of everything life had been for the two of them. Smiles and sunshine and togetherness.
She folded it carefully, handed it to her father, and met his eyes. “I remember making it for you.”
“Really?” He slipped the paper back into the bag. “You really remember me?”
Hannah sniffed and tried to find her voice. Her tears were becoming sobs as the moment became more real. This was him, her father. The man she’d been missing for eleven years. “Yes.” She grabbed a quick breath. “I remember you playing with me on the floor and … and reading to me.” She took hold of his hands, feeling the warmth of his fingers through the red gloves. “I remember you playing the guitar.” She put her arms around him again and pressed her cheek against his chest. “You must’ve seen my message.”
“I did.” He stroked her hair. “I couldn’t believe it was you. After so many years of looking.”
“They told us … ” She swallowed a series of sobs. “They told us you were dead.”
He tightened his hold on her. “I should be.”
She drew back and studied his face. Whatever he’d been through, it must’ve been horrible. “Look at this.” She held up her gloved hands, and turned the cuff down so he could read the embroidered word written on the inside of each.
“Believe.” His voice was quiet, amazed.
She thought of Buddy Bingo, praying every day for her Christmas miracle. Her tears subsided, and she caught her breath. “A friend gave them to me.” She looked at the inside of the cuffs, and then up to her dad. “I wore them because I believed you’d be okay, that they’d rescue you, and you’d call.” She made a sound that was mostly laughter. “I never thought you’d show up on my doorstep!”
He peered around her. “Can I come in?”
The question was a serious one; Hannah could see that in her father’s eyes. After all, her mother had left without a forwarding address. He wouldn’t know whether she’d want him in their house, even after so many years.
“Of course.” Hannah hurried back a few steps and ushered him inside. “Mother’s been helping me find you. She’ll be so glad you’re okay.”
They made their way inside by the fire and sat in opposite chairs, their hands joined in the middle. Hannah told him about her life, how her mother had married a politician and how she rarely saw either of them.
“I’m sorry, Hannah.” His shoulders slumped. “That’s not right.”
She shrugged. “It’s all I know.”
“Not after today.” He flexed the muscles in his jaw. “I’m never leaving you.”
There were steps in the foyer and then in the hallway, and she could hear her mother’s voice. “Hannah? Is someone here?”
The look of perfection was back, and as her mother stepped into the room she was the picture of poise and position. Her eyes moved from Hannah to her father, and she came to a slow stop. “Mike?”
He stood and went to her, stopping short of a hug. She reached out her hands and he took them as their eyes locked onto each other. “Carol. You’re still beautiful.” He smiled, but Hannah could see the pain in his eyes.
“They told us you were dead.” She looked at Hannah. “Did you tell him?”
‘Yes, Mother.” She stood, amazed at what she was seeing.
Her dad said something else then, something about being rescued and getting a rushed trip back home, but Hannah wasn’t really listening. Her heart was in her throat. She’d found her daddy, the man in her memories. And now, whatever happened after this, she wasn’t letting him go. He would be a part of her life forever more. Wasn’t that what he’d said?
God had brought him home to her on Christmas Eve. She could hardly wait to tell Buddy. And what would her grandmother say? What would her daddy and her mother have to say to each other, once they got past these first few minutes?
That’s when Hannah realized what had happened. Not only because her father was standing before her, but because her mother was, too. The thing she’d wanted most of all was her father’s rescue, and that she might spend Christmas with her parents. Now, against any reason or commonsense, she was going to do just that.
A smile lifted the corners of her mouth and she studied her father, proud of him. He was a captain, a chopper pilot. And there he was, tall and strong and bigger than life! A song rang out from the depths of her soul. Because she could imagine getting to know her dad again, and maybe living with him when her mother was out of the country. Maybe singing while he played the guitar, or taking a trip to Pismo Beach with him so he could teach her to surf. She could imagine all of it, a life with her dad the way she’d always known it could be.
And that was something so big, so amazing, Buddy Bingo was right.
It could only be a Christmas miracle.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Aspecial thanks to Rolf Zettersten, Leslie Peterson, Andrea Davis, Lori Quinn, Jennette Merwin, Preston Cannon,
and everyone at Warner Faith who helped make this and the other Red Gloves novels possible. Also, thanks to my agent, Rick Christian, president of Alive Communications. Rick, you continue to amaze me, leaving me blessed beyond words. Thank you for keeping my family life and my faith as your utmost concern. I couldn’t complete a book without help from my husband and kids, who know what it is to eat tuna sandwiches and cheese quesadillas when I’m on deadline. Thanks for always understanding! I cherish every minute of our family time!
The work of putting together a book doesn’t take place without other people picking up the slack in my life. A heartfelt thanks goes to my mother and assistant, Anne Kingsbury, and to assistants Katie Johnson and Nicole Chapman. Also thanks to Aaron Hisel for your work with Tyler, and to the Shaffers and Heads and Weils, and to Kira Elam and Tricia Kingsbury for helping out with rides when I’m on deadline.
Prayer is a crucial part of taking a book from its original idea to the written page. So thanks to my prayer warriors: Ann Hudson, Sylvia and Walt Walgren, Sonya Fitzpatrick, Teresa Thacker, Kathy Santschi, the Chap-mans, the Dillons, the Graves, and countless readers, friends, and family who lift my writing ministry to our Lord on a daily basis. I couldn’t bring you these books without that type of support. Thank you!
Thanks also to those who keep me surrounded by love and encouragement. These include my extended family, my church friends, the parents on our various soccer, baseball, and basketball teams, and the wonderful friends who make up our Bible study group and closest relationships. You know who you are—you are wonderful! I love you all!
Finally, a humble thanks to the men and women of the U.S. Armed Forces, especially Air Force reservist Jonathan Vansandt. My family and I completely support your work overseas across the world—particularly the efforts in Iraq and Afghanistan. If you are one of these, please let me know. I love hearing from my readers, but especially I love hearing how these stories are encouraging you. Your sacrifice is immeasurable. You remain in our prayers and thoughts as you carry out your mission. Because of you, I have the freedom to write books that give glory to Jesus Christ. “Thank you” isn’t nearly enough.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Hello friends!
Merry Christmas, and thanks for traveling with me through the pages of each Red Gloves novel. It’s become part of my pre-Christmas tradition, writing these stories and bringing them to you, knowing that for many of you they are now a part of your traditions as well. In the back of each book, I listed service project ideas—Red Gloves Projects. The goal was that you would travel from the pages of the story to the streets of your community, where you and your family or friends or co-workers might do something to reach those in need.
In the book Gideon’s Gift I told the story of a sick little girl and an angry homeless man and the gift that changes both their lives forever. That gift was a pair of red gloves. The projects involved reaching out to the homeless. Next came Maggie’s Miracle, with Red Gloves Projects for needy children; and Sarah’s Song, with Red Gloves Projects for the elderly. Hannah’s Hope included projects for members of the military and their families. Always the red gloves play a cameo role in the story, bringing to mind again the gift Gideon gave to old, angry Earl in the first Red Gloves novel.
In this collection we have brought together all of the books into one volume and all of the Red Gloves Projects as well. Use these projects as a way of giving something back during the Christmas season. Each project idea involves red gloves. I invite you and your family to take part in one of them—or to create one of your own. Remember, Christmas miracles happen to those who believe.
RED GLOVES PROJECTS
Gideon’s Gift: Start saving your pennies. The week before Christmas, purchase a pair of red gloves, wrap them, and stick a card or drawing inside. Then deliver it to the first needy person you see—whether he or she is standing at the end of a freeway ramp or eating dinner at your local homeless shelter. Do this with a group of people and impact an entire group of street people. Use your extra money to buy food for street people.
As you distribute meals, include pairs of red gloves. Again, if you’re bagging the food, you can put the gloves inside where they can find them. Sing Christmas carols at a local homeless shelter or retirement center. Wear red gloves during the performance.
When the singing is over, you and your group can walk around and give away your red gloves to those in attendance. Organize your church, school, or office to have a Red Gloves Drive. Collect toys and food for needy families in your area. When you deliver the gifts, have everyone in the group wear a pair of red gloves. Then leave the gloves with the people who need them more.
Maggie’s Miracle: 1. Adopt an orphan through World-Vision or another international organization you feel is trustworthy. For usually pennies a day, you can make a difference in the life of at least one child and be to that little boy or girl a Christmas miracle every day of the year. Once you’ve chosen your child, send him or her a pair of red gloves. Then cut out the child’s picture and attach it to a red glove, which can hang in your home all year long.
2. Contact your local branch of Social Services and find out how many children in your area are awaiting families. Make a list of the names of those children and commit along with your friends or family to pray for each of them. Buy gifts for these children, along with several pairs of red gloves, and take the wrapped presents to the local Social Services office. Ask that they be delivered to the children waiting for families. 3. If you’re single and able to be more involved, check if your area has an organization that pairs lonely children with willing adults. Make a yearlong commitment to a child, and make your first gift to him or her a pair of red gloves with an explanation that red is the color of giving. 4. Talk to your local public elementary school or contact your church leaders, and locate a needy family in your area. Purchase presents for the family, and deliver them while wearing red gloves. Adorn the packages with red gloves for each of the children in the family.
Sarah’s Song: Take a trip to a retirement center. Most cities have these facilities now, and the residents are often well enough to realize their loneliness. Call the facility and set a date. Then gather your friends and family, and ask everyone to bring a pair of red gloves. Go as dinner is just ending, and fan out through the dining room. Have each person in your group find a resident, introduce themselves, and ask a few questions.
Why is Christmas special, for instance, or in all your life what year was most special to you? Ask God to teach you something in the course of the conversation. Then give your set of red gloves to that resident. Go caroling. If you and your family or you and your group of friends can’t sing well, don’t let that stop you. Older people make a very forgiving audience. Simply locate a nursing home or retirement center, contact the facility, and set up a date. Then put together a few Christmas carols, wear Santa hats, and bring a box of red gloves to pass out. The hardest part will be trying to make it through “Silent Night” with twenty teary-eyed seniors soaking in every word. A note of caution: Don’t bring baked goods. Most people in assisted living can’t have sugar. The red gloves and your song will be gift enough. Adopt an older person. Contact your local nursing home or retirement center and ask if they have a resident who doesn’t receive visits very often. Maybe never. Then make it a point to visit that person at least once a week throughout the Christmas season. Bring that person a pair of red gloves, and get to know him or her. Your life just might be changed in the process. Invite a lonely older person to dinner. This should be done with contacts through your church. Check if there are former members who are now residing in assisted-living facilities. If they have no family in the area, offer to arrange a time when he or she can join you for dinner or a Christmas party. In the process, give that person a pair of red gloves and ask them to share their favorite story. It might be one you decide to keep in your family for decades to come.
P.S. Did you figure out the hidden meaning in the words on Sarah’s Christmas ornaments?
If not, take a look:
T omorrow
H igh hopes
E xcitement
R ebellious
E xposed
D ance
G one
L onging
O pportunity
V ictory
E mbrace
S till
Remember? The secret to love was in the red gloves. Above all else, guard your heart. The secret was in the words on Sarah’s tree, as well. Now you know. Hannah’s Hope: By networking through your church or school or workplace, identify two to four soldiers currently serving overseas. Make a plan to bring them as much joy and appreciation as possible this Christmas. Round up as many people as you can, and have them write thank-you letters to the soldiers. You might contact your local school or organize this through your place of employment. Letters from both children and adults would be best. Next, purchase something special to go with the letters. Soldiers tell me that chewing gum and jelly beans are especially nice in the dusty desert areas. Finally, pack the letters and gifts in a box and top it off with a pair of red gloves and a copy of Hannah’s Hope or another Christmas story whose message you enjoy. You might consider multiple copies so the soldier can pass them out to his or her friends. Reading material is hard to come by. Contact your local Armed Services recruiting office and ask if there are any soldiers who will not have the finances to come home for Christmas. Organize a group of people willing to help in this matter. Stage a fundraiser, or have these people donate money to the cause. Then arrange with the local office to purchase airfare for that soldier. Make sure you know the date and time he or she will be returning. Plan for your group to be at the airport with signs that read “Welcome Home!” and “Thank you!”
Some soldiers will not have time off during Christmas. This will be an emotional burden on their families, but it can also be a financial strain. Talk to the local Armed Services office again, and ask if there are soldiers whose families could benefit from donated gifts. If so, get a group together and purchase those gifts. Deliver them with letters to the families, thanking them for sacrificing time with their loved ones so that we can remain a free country. Using the method in the first idea, locate a soldier who has family in your area. Next, contact the soldier and express an interest in letting his or her entire unit know how grateful you are for their service. In our area, third-grade teacher Kathy Santschi arranged a campaign called “Jelly Bellies for Jonathan.” Jonathan Vansandt is a friend of ours, and he had expressed a general wish in his unit for Jelly Bellies. All told, Kathy Santschi’s third graders collected well over a hundred pounds of Jelly Bellies. Jonathan was the recipient, but he shared Jelly Bellies with dozens of soldiers serving alongside him in Iraq. The candy came with letters from the children, and Jonathan says it lifted the spirits of the entire unit for weeks. You could do this sort of thing with chewing gum or inspirational novels or whatever you think might change the course of a few weeks for an entire unit of soldiers. Of course, the one thing we can all do for our men and women serving overseas is pray. Make a prayer calendar with your family or group, and choose to deliberately pray for those serving in all branches of the Armed Forces. Pray for our president and the decisions he must make in the fight for freedom. And pray that God’s mighty hand of protection be over everyone fighting for freedom across the world.
The Red Gloves Collection Page 37