This is the message of Christmas: We are never alone.
~Taylor Caldwell
When I asked my five-year-old granddaughter what she wanted to give her kindergarten teacher for Christmas, she said, “Grandma, I want to give my teacher a special Christmas present, because I love her.” She didn’t want to give her teacher an apple ornament, a piece of costume jewelry, or a gift card. She wanted “something that no one has ever given her before!” I told her we’d sleep on it and talk about it more the next morning.
Usually, I don’t remember much, if anything, about my dreams, but when I awoke the next day, I recalled every single detail about the most vivid dream I’d ever had. My Grandma Blanche visited me. That in itself was surprising because she had died when I was only five, so I didn’t really know her. Grandma Blanche said she would show me a unique gift that my granddaughter could give her teacher — one that no one would have ever given her before.
And then she showed me the most beautiful red lace apron I’d ever seen. At first I laughed, telling her it was see-through and too fancy for the kitchen. She explained, though, that it was a hostess apron. The hostess put it on after she finished cooking.
Grandma then showed me how to make the apron. I paid close attention to the design, the bric-a-brac, as she called it, along the hem and the pocket, and the rhinestones formed into a diamond shape in the center of the sash. Grandma assured me that the teacher would love it.
For a long time after I woke that morning, I sat on the side of the bed thinking about that dream. It was so vivid. How could I have been visited by a grandmother I hardly knew, with a gift idea for her great-great-granddaughter’s teacher?
I called my mom. As I described everything in detail, she remained quiet. And, when I finally paused what she said blew me away. She told me her mom was a seamstress and would often make “hostess aprons” to earn extra cash. She always gave them to her children’s teachers as Christmas gifts, and those teachers always loved them.
My mom also told me that she had kept one of her mom’s aprons all these years, and that even though she never wore it, she kept it tucked away in a special place and pulled it out from time to time. She said that as I was telling her about my dream, she pulled it out and was holding it in her hands.
I was speechless. Not only did I not remember my grandmother, I certainly never knew about her having made aprons. But, I remained open to the possibility that something unexplainable was happening, and told my mom that I was going to purchase the materials and attempt to make what I saw in my dream. Then I would compare it to what she had.
Several hours later, I was confident I’d recreated, with the help of my granddaughter, what I saw in my dream — in red, like in the dream, and in black. The bric-a-brac was placed just as I saw it along the hem. The rhinestones formed a diamond in the center of the waistband. The sash was long enough to make a nice bow in the back.
It was time to compare what I had to what my mother had, so off we went to her house.
As I unwrapped what I made and Mom walked into her living room with what her mother had made, we all gasped — they were identical! I had made an exact replica of what my mother held in her hands. We both knew that something special had happened, and for the longest time we just looked at them, in silence, and tried to make sense of it all.
After the Christmas break, I received the most beautiful note from my granddaughter’s teacher, thanking me for the “most unique gift” she’d received during her teaching career. She promised that she would wear this apron every time she entertained, and would always be reminded of my granddaughter. While I cannot explain how I remembered every single detail of that dream, or how my grandmother seemed to know the intended recipient of the apron, what I do know is that something special happened that I will never forget.
My granddaughter is now grown, with children of her own, but every year our family still talks about the angel of a grandmother neither of us knew, but who visited in a dream and gave us a gift we’ll always treasure.
~Victoria Jones
