Dare I wish that my heart could heal in time for Christmas?
Boxes of decorations from the attic were spread out in front of the Christmas tree. My three boys were way ahead of me and their excitement for Christmas was beyond ecstatic. This year, they’d even brought a friend to help decorate. I tried to carry on as if it were any other year.
“One box for the lights, another box for the bulbs, another for the treasures you guys have made over the years,” I said, opening each so we could all dig in. There was another box that I put aside. It was filled with Christmas ornaments from my childhood. I liked to place those myself.
“First, the lights,” I said, and plopped down on the floor, ready to tackle the tangled mess. I looked up at our Christmas tree, just as beautiful as the one that stood in the same spot the year before. That was about the only thing that was the same, because after 18 years my marriage had collapsed.
Only a year ago, my husband had brought home a blue spruce tree. It was the last time we were together as a family. Those happy voices drowned out whatever the kids and their friend were saying now as I let my mind drift back to that Christmas:
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der November/December 2017-Ausgabe von Angels on Earth.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der November/December 2017-Ausgabe von Angels on Earth.
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THE ANSWER
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The Humility Sisters
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Built by Angels
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ONE RED GLOVE
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Clutter, Be Gone!
Fifteen minutes a day keeps the mess away
A housewarming gift
My husband seemed to be in every room— even though I knew he was in heaven