Authors: Donna VanLiere

The Christmas Hope (17 page)

BOOK: The Christmas Hope

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… each day of the journey is precious, yours and mine—we must strive to make it a masterpiece. Each day, once gone, is gone forever.

—John Wooden

I
watch Mia in the rearview mirror. She is holding her foot and straining to see out the window. “Where we going?” In the last year Mia has grown stronger and healthier every day. Her mother, Bridget, was put in prison for four years. She’s up for parole in a year and if she’s released I hope she gets her life on track.

I park on the opposite side of the square and can see sparkling ornaments glistening off the three fir trees. Norma recovered from pneumonia but was never able to decorate them again. I took Emily to Norma’s home one day and we had a long visit, asking if Mark and I could take over the job she had faithfully done for over forty years. Her hip isn’t as strong as she’d like it to be so she sat in a wheelchair and watched as we decorated the trees this year. “Make sure the brightest bulbs are near the bottom of the tree so children can see them,” she said, pointing as we worked. “But make sure their little hands can’t get tangled in the ribbon.” Emily ran from one tree to the other helping Mark and me as we climbed up and down ladders and untangled one lighting mess after another. “Beautiful! Just beautiful,” Norma said, clapping her hands together on our second and final day of decorating. It’s my hope that our family will always be able to continue the tradition Norma began so many years ago.

Church bells ring as I open the car door.

“Where we at?” Mia asks.

“We’re going to watch Emily,” I say, unbuckling her car seat. Mark left two hours ago with Emily for the Christmas pageant. In November, Emily was asked to be an angel in this year’s program. Mom and I got together and created her costume ourselves and after several attempts, we finally got it right. Before she and Mark left I helped straighten her wings so they came up over her shoulders and down her back, and then positioned the halo so it hovered above her head. She was an angel. Our angel.

I lift Mia out of the car seat and hold her close to me so she’ll stay warm. “Mama, where’s Emwee?”

I laugh and kiss her face. I love to hear her say Emily’s name. Mia’s adoption was final in early fall. Emily never forgot about her sick little friend in the hospital, so when Mark and I became foster parents Mia was placed in our home. When she arrived we put her in a separate room but each night Emily wanders into Mia’s room and sleeps in the bed near her crib. Although they have their moments, Emily loves her little sister. I quit my job soon after Mark and I became legal guardians to Emily. I work from time to time when I’m needed but mostly I stay home and watch Emily and Mia grow.

I enter the church and look for Mark and Emily. He waves to me from up front. “Do you have the video camera?” he asks.

I hold up the bag as he takes Mia from me.

“There’s my girl,” he says, holding her high above his head.

I see Emily waving to us from behind the stable and I turn on the camera. I don’t want to miss a thing. I wave and keep the camera to my eye, recording her jumping and waving until someone pulls her back behind the stable again. Mom and Dad, Hal and Greta, and Roy, Barbara, and Jasmine arrive and sit behind us. They are all equipped with video cameras of their own.

We join the choir as they sing “Joy to the World” and “The First Noël” and listen as a child reads the Christmas story from the Book of Luke. The scene comes to life with Mary and Joseph and a real crying baby as Jesus. Shepherds wander throughout the aisles and, behind the set, standing on a ladder so she looks as if she’s hovering, is a tiny angel spreading her wings. Mark zooms in with the video camera. “Do not be afraid,” Emily says. “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.” I want to stand up and cheer. We had practiced that line many times together. An older angel takes the rest of the lines and Emily looks out at us, and waves. My throat tightens and I know that tears are not far behind. I made a simple choice of driving Emily to our home one year ago, and oh, how my life has changed. God didn’t shout to get my attention; I never heard His voice boom from the heavens but rather He sent a child to speak to me. In the middle of my darkest days this tiny angel held my hand and helped me to believe again. When my faith was in shreds she reminded me that God is always here, and out of that paper-thin faith came hope. And somehow that’s just how faith works: no matter how frail or fractured it may be, it will always produce hope. If we allow it.

Mia bounces up and down on my lap and I smile. Out of sorrow came these tiny gifts of joy. Our girls. I lift Mia higher so she can see Emily and she squeals. Mark puts his hand on my leg and squeezes it. While our family has increased, there is still an empty seat at our table, there are pictures that stop when Sean was eighteen, and there are still dreams of a daughter-in-law and grandchildren that will never be fulfilled. It is a loss that will always weigh on my soul but I know how to breathe again. I know how to laugh and cry and seize every ounce of life from each day because, as Sean’s note reminded me, I realize the value of time and how quickly it passes.

There are weeks that I can’t remember how I got here or the pain that I felt; there are other times when it rushes over me in a flood. It was a long journey. On many occasions I didn’t think I’d make it, or that Mark and I would survive, but we did. And today as I watch an angel dressed in white lift her wings to sing I can say that there is Hope in this world and peace in my heart.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

M
uch appreciation and thanks to …

Troy, for always listening to my ideas and then being the first to cheer me on to completion. (By the way, I still maintain that it doesn’t make you a coauthor just because you suggest one word in a manuscript.)

Kate, you have filled this house with your tiny laugh. Thank you for your sweet smile, kisses, and the joy that overtakes your body when you see your mom and dad in the “mor-nie!” What would our home be without you in it?

Gracie, you are the “good big sister.” Thank you for all the nights you spend in “Mommy-Daddy bed” reading, laughing, singing, and snuggling, and for always wanting to help me cook and bake cookies! Yes, you are a “good big helper,” too.

Jennifer Gates, for your ready ear, wise direction, and sweet stories of Jack. He’s blessed to have you as his mother. Hopefully, one day I’ll get around to writing all those books we talk about.

Esmond Harmsworth, I appreciate the time you take to read over each manuscript, the feedback and guidance you give, and the great stories of your childhood. There’s a book for you!

Jennifer Enderlin, I’m grateful for your belief in me and for being my cheerleader at St. Martin’s. Welcome, Nicholas! Thanks, too, to the marketing and sales staff for all your efforts.

Chris and Tonya Carter (welcome Connor and Eli!), Chad and Sherry Carter, Tony and Kathy Dupree, David and Marilyn Knight, and everyone at the Orchard Church for your encouragement, friendship, and faithfulness.

Beth Grossbard, you said you had a vision for
The Christmas Blessing
and you wouldn’t stop working until it became reality. Thank you. I can’t wait to see the movie! You are a great encourager. Craig Anderson, thank you also for your belief and support. We are honored to work with both you and Beth.

Dr. Ann Kavanaugh-McHugh (with Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital Division of Pediatric Cardiology), for sharing your time and knowledge with me again. You are very gracious.

My nephews and niece, Patrick and Tyler Payne, Joshua Richmond, and Alyssa and Desmond VanLiere, who are growing up to be fine young people.

Tonya Carter, Hannah Fennell, and Lauren Wilcox for loving our girls during the time you’ve each watched them, and Nancy Townsend for being ready at a moment’s notice for those quick trips to the doctor’s office. Hannah, we miss you. Do well in college!

“Miss” Rho Kloete, “Miss” Mandy Kelly, and “Miss” Elle Goering (with Grassland Community Mother’s Day Out) for your heart!

And to Bailey, who’s at my side even now, for always sticking with me.

ALSO BY DONNA VANLIERE

The Christmas Shoes
The Christmas Blessing

The Christmas Hope

Excerpt from
My Personal Best: Life Lessons from an All-American Journey
copyright © 2004 by John Wooden and Steve Jamison, reprinted by permission of McGraw-Hill.

www.stmartins.com

eISBN 9781429936828

First eBook Edition : February 2011

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

VanLiere, Donna.

The Christmas hope / Donna VanLiere.—1st ed. p. cm.

ISBN 0-312-33450-8

EAN 978-0-312-33450-5

1. Women social workers—Fiction. 2. Married people—Fiction. 3. Girls—Fiction. I. Title.

PS3622.A66C478 2005

813’.6—dc22

2005046079