My kindergartener, Jennifer, bounded through the door after school. “We’re having a Christmas party next week!” she announced. “And I signed up to bring three dozen cookies.”
“Oh, boy!” was all I could say. Just a few months ago, I’d have been thrilled to take on this project with her. We both loved to bake. But ever since my husband had left his job to pursue the ministry, the only way to make ends meet was to stick to a strict budget. Flour, sugar, eggs—I didn’t have the ingredients or the money for Christmas cookies.
Jennifer ran off to do her homework without a care in the world. I didn’t want to disappoint her. So I did the only thing I could think of. I closed my eyes. God, Jennifer is so excited. Please help me find a way to make this happen for her.
Days passed, my prayers continued, and nothing. Maybe Christmas cookies were too small a request to pester God with.
Two days before the party, I knew I had to swallow my pride and call the teacher and explain. As I picked up the phone, my doorbell rang. Delivery. I wasn’t expecting anything and wasn’t in the mood for surprises when I had a disappointing business to take care of with Jennifer’s teacher.
I brought the package into the house and opened it. When I saw what was inside, my jaw dropped. Bags of sugar and flour. A canister of sprinkles. There was even a small tin of short ending, and coconut. Just about everything we needed to make and decorate Christmas cookies. At the bottom of the box was a note from my sister. “Thinking about you during the holiday season,” she wrote. How had she known that this was exactly what we needed?
Esta historia es de la edición Nov/Dec 2019 de Angels on Earth.
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Esta historia es de la edición Nov/Dec 2019 de Angels on Earth.
Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 9,000 revistas y periódicos.
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