Amazing Grace (17 page)
Authors: Nancy Allen
“My leg is hurt,” Daddy said. “The doctor told me it would take some time to heal, but I'm on the mend already.” He reached back into his duffle bag and pulled out presents. Johnny's face lit up when he saw a Chutes and Ladders game and a toy jeep.
“Close your eyes, Gracie Girl,” Daddy said, “and hold out your hands.”
When I opened my eyes, I held a Raggedy Ann doll with red hair and red-and-white striped legs. I hugged Miss Raggedy Ann and squeezed her tight to let her know that she was special. Then I noticed a gold chain with a heart pendant hanging around her neck. I unlatched the chain and put it on.
“That necklace looked like my Gracie Girl,” Daddy said.
“I love it,” I cried out as I ran to my bedroom to look at it in the mirror.
When I walked back into the parlor, Daddy said, “Here is a tin of dog biscuits for someone special.” I reached for Spot's present.
Grandma got a shawl in her favorite color, purple.
Daddy saved the last gift for Mom. He handed her a tiny box.
Mom lifted the lid and whispered, “It's beautiful.” She stuck out her arm. Daddy reached for the silver bracelet and wrapped it around Mom's wrist.
As I held my Raggedy Ann, I realized something. I eased over to Grandma's window and slipped the “sons in service” flag off the hook and handed it to Grandma. Grandma wrapped the flag in tissue paper and placed it in a drawer.
I walked over to Mom and whispered in her ear, “We don't have a present for Daddy.”
“Sure we do,” Mom answered. She rushed into her bedroom and brought out a gift wrapped in red and green paper with a silver bow on top.
Daddy unwrapped the giftâa pocketknife. He said it was perfect because he wanted to learn to carve wood while his leg healed.
We talked late into the night. I grabbed Spot's tin of dog biscuits and his wrapped present and walked out to his doghouse. Spot gobbled two biscuits, and I promised I'd give him two more each day. I unwrapped the green package. Inside was a new collar. I unlatched the old collar and wrapped the new one around Spot's neck.
“Looking good, boy.” I told him. “We're going to stay with Grandma for a while, until Daddy's leg heals, maybe longer.”
Spot wagged his tail. In dog talk, that meant he was happy with the plan.
“We may go back to Hazard to live, but we may not. Either way, you and I will be together.” Spot's tail wagged harder. I kissed that clever mutt goodnight and hurried back inside.
I was chilled from standing in the cold with Spot, but listening to Daddy's laugh warmed me more than the fireplace. Daddy stood and used his crutch to walk over to the wireless. He turned the knob. The station played Christmas music. As Benny Goodman's version of “Silent Night” began, Daddy walked back over to Mom and offered his hand. Daddy and Mom waltzed around the parlor, with Mom under one of Daddy's arms and a crutch under the other. As they danced, Mom laughed one of those laughs that made me want to laugh too.
“Jingle Bells” played next. Daddy grabbed Johnny and me. “My girl and guy have grown since we last danced,” Daddy said as the three of us stomped around the room, Johnny hugging Daddy's good leg, me hugging his waist.
When the band struck up “I'll Be Home for Christmas,” Daddy walked over to Grandma. He reached out his hand and said, “Ma'am, may I have this dance?”
“Son, I've never danced a step in my life,” Grandma said.
“Go on, Grandma,” I said, “you've got to have gumption.”
Grandma laughed and danced clear into the kitchen and back with Daddy.
About the Author
Nancy Kelly Allen's route to award-winning writing has more twists and turns than a winding mountain road. She worked as a social worker, elementary school teacher and school librarian. After spending days introducing books to children, she spent nights writing books for them.
Nancy grew up in Kentucky, where storytelling is a way of life. Her father entertained the family with humorous stories. Each time he told a story, he embellished it a little more. Nancy's mother encouraged her young daughter to write stories even before Nancy could read. Nancy pecked away on the keyboard of an old Royal typewriter, writing nothing but jumbled letters and numbers. She proudly handed her work to her mother, who read it aloud as if Nancy had actually written a masterpiece. The early influence of her mother's literary interpretations and her father's humorous storytelling set Nancy on the road to creating worlds through books.
Nancy has a master's in education degree from Morehead State University and a master's in library and information science degree from the University of Kentucky. She lives in Kentucky in the log cabin in which she grew up. Nancy shares her cabin with her husband, Larry, and two canine writer assistants, Jazi and Roxi.
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