It was Christmas Eve. Kate stood on the porch looking up at the stars, which seemed as cold as she felt. Although she was shivering, she didn’t want to go inside. Somehow the chill that penetrated her skin matched the chill she felt in her heart. Even her mind felt numb and hopeless.
Kate could hear the whirr of the sewing machine coming from Mom’s bedroom. Mom had been in there with the door shut ever since supper. She was obviously trying to finish a Christmas present for somebody. Justin had gone to bed but Kate knew he wasn’t asleep; it was too early. It was just Justin’s way of escaping. Mom could pretend this was a normal Christmas, but they all knew. This was the last Christmas they’d ever have here. Then they’d be moving away to some strange place where they’d have no friends. Kate choked back a sob. What difference did it make? She already had no friends.
A noise in the living room caused Kate to turn and look through the window. Chip was pawing through packages under the Christmas tree. Kate went inside. “Mom better not catch you snooping!” she warned.
Chip sat there clutching a bulky package. There were tears in his eyes. “It’s soft,” he said. “They’re all soft.”
Kate took the package out of his hands and put it back under the tree. “Don’t you want new clothes?” she asked.
“Not for Christmas,” Chip sniffled.
Kate led him down the hall to the bedroom he shared with Justin and tucked him in. “It’s all Mom can afford, Chip. You know we didn’t even get jeans or shoes when school started. We’ve just got to have new ones. Don’t we, Justin?”
“Who cares?” Justin pulled the covers over his head and mumbled, “I hate Christmas.”
Kate knew he didn’t really hate Christmas. It was his way of saying that no matter what presents they got, it wouldn’t make up for what they were about to lose. She felt sorry for Chip, who wanted to find toys, not clothes, under the tree on Christmas morning, and she felt sorry for Justin because she knew he had worked hard to bring his grades up in hopes of making the team. And she felt sorry for herself because nothing, not one single thing, had worked out.
Chip turned his back to Kate and curled up in a little ball. For a few minutes she sat on the side of his bed, patting him on the shoulder and thinking how unfair it was that tonight of all nights the hard truth should be bearing down on them. Chip knew there weren’t any toys under the tree. She and Justin knew that if Mom was so broke she couldn’t buy toys, it meant she was too broke to make the mortgage payments. They’d be moving for sure, and Justin wasn’t going to get a chance to try out for the team. And she, Kate, was not going to be able to contribute anything because she no longer had a way to earn money. She was sort of sorry she hadn’t taken the money from Ruby, but at the same time she was glad she hadn’t. You don’t take things from people who aren’t your friends, she thought bitterly, and Ruby certainly hadn’t turned out to be a friend.
Kate left the room and tiptoed down the hall. She listened for a minute outside Mom’s room. At first it was quiet, then the hum of the sewing machine started up again. She went through the kitchen and out the back door.
When she reached Sugar’s pen she stopped and leaned against the fence. She hadn’t cried since the day she figured out that Ruby was leaving. Usually a good cry made her feel better but now she felt that it wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference. Whether she cried or not she was going to go on feeling terrible. Tonight, tomorrow, maybe forever.
“Oh, Sugar,” Kate sighed. “Mom’s going to spend all night sewing clothes and in the morning Chip’s going to pout and Justin won’t talk and nobody’s going to get one single thing they want. It’s going to be the awfulest Christmas we ever had.”
Sugar bleated softly. Then from the darkness came another bleat, smaller and more high-pitched than the first. Kate shrieked and raced for the house.
When Kate burst into Mom’s bedroom, Mom jumped up from the sewing machine and jerked whatever she was sewing behind her so Kate couldn’t see it. “What on earth?” she gasped.
“Mom!” Kate said in an excited whisper. “Come quick! Sugar’s had her baby!”
Mom’s face brightened like a sunrise. She grabbed a flashlight and they ran hand in hand across the yard to the goat pen.
“Shhh,” Mom said as she opened the gate. “Sugar wants us to see her new baby, but she’ll be nervous and very protective. We don’t want to startle the little fellow.”
Kate tiptoed to the door of the shed and pushed it open. “Sugar,” she said softly. “Hey, Sugar. It’s me, Kate.”
Mom shone the flashlight beam past Kate. There stood Sugar with two small goats, one golden brown and one black, pressed tight against her side.
“Twins!” Kate exclaimed, going down on her knees.
“Whoa!” Mom said, laughing. “Count again, Katie. I see four more legs on the other side. And they can’t belong to Sugar, because they’re white.”
Kate stuck her head under Sugar’s belly to see the third kid. “It’s a baby billy!” she exclaimed.
Mom knelt next to Kate, pointing the flashlight beam down so it wouldn’t hurt the kids’ tender eyes.
“They’re so little,” Kate breathed. “Barely bigger than rabbits!”
“It’s because there are three of them,” Mom told her. “With multiple births, the babies tend to be smaller.”
While Sugar watched her every move, Kate ran her hands over their silky sides: first the brown baby, then the black one, and then the white one. Each was its own little miracle, a perfect work of art.
“Whose are they?” Kate asked suddenly.
“Why, Sugar belongs to you, Katie. They’re yours.”
Kate felt a grin break over her face. “Can I give one to Chip and one to Justin?”
By the way Mom hugged her, Kate knew it was a great idea.
“I’ll give the black one to Chip, because it’s the same color as Go-Boy. Justin can have the white one because it’s a little billy.” Kate leaned down and kissed the tiniest of the three. “And this little honey-colored one will be mine. She looks like a miniature Sugar. I just know she’s going to be the sweetest of all.”