Sonia Pettit pressed her hand against her chest in a vain attempt to ease the gnawing, endless ache in her heart. In a few short days, she’d mark the seventh Christmas since her daughter’s frightful disappearance. A sudden, unannounced, and, worst of all, voluntary disappearance with no explanation, no sense, and no forwarding address. A disappearance that had incinerated Sonia’s soul and left it a cold heap of ashes.

Outside the living room window, autumn had long since passed, leaving behind bare branches, scrawny bushes, and gray-white skies. A soft snow fell, dusting the yellowed lawn of the 1920s Victorian home she and Rick had purchased as newlyweds twenty-nine years earlier. The home in which they’d raised their children.

But those early happy times had turned into a nightmare.

She leaned her forehead against the windowpane, her eyes searching far into the distance. More times than she could count, she’d riveted her gaze on the sidewalk leading up to the house, hoping against hope her daughter would suddenly appear. But each time, Jody’s imaginary figure would evaporate into nothingness.

Sonia blinked back the stinging tears. Truth be told, some days worry clawed at her, tearing her heart to shreds. But there were other days, just as wrenching, when rage gripped her to the point she never wanted to see her daughter again. Like a scorching iron, raw pain seared the edges of her memory, leaving only blame to vent the hurt.

After all she’d done for her child. To have Jody leave without warning, without saying good-bye, without so much as an “I’ll be in touch, Mom.” Nothing. Just cold, heartless rejection fueled by arrogance and ingratitude that bordered on the cruel. A vicious slap in the face to a mother who’d given her life for her children.

Sonia turned at the hissing sound coming from the kitchen. She rushed to the stove where her soup had boiled over. She reached the pot just in time to remove a rattling lid from its precarious perch. A small puddle of homemade chicken soup covered the gas burner. She turned off the gas and moved the bubbling mixture to a back burner. Then she took the dishcloth hanging on the faucet and carefully wiped up the mess just as Ben walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Ben. I’m making your favorite homemade chicken soup for lunch later.”

“Morning, Mom.” Ben scratched his disheveled head in a valiant attempt to jerk himself to wakefulness. “Got any coffee?”

Sonia pushed down her anger and forced a smile at her lanky twenty-two-year-old son. The second-born of her womb. The son with the tender heart gone awry. “Just made a fresh pot. I’ll pour you some.”

“Thanks.” He yawned. “I’m not awake enough to pour it myself.”

She took a large blue mug from the cupboard and held it in her left hand while she poured coffee into it with her right. She handed the mug of steaming brew to Ben. In a few months, he’d be graduating from college and moving right into a job with a local accounting firm.

His father would have been proud of at least one of their two children.

She squelched the painful memories. Christmas was coming, and she needed to put on a smile for Ben, if not for herself.

“So how’s my favorite son this morning?”

Ben sat down at the kitchen table and stretched out his long legs. “Come on, Mom. You know I’m your only son. So why call me your favorite?”

She sat down in the chair next to him. “Because you are. You don’t have to be my only son to be my favorite one.”

He grinned. “But what if you had another son, would I still be your favorite?”

“Of course, you would. It has nothing to do with numbers. No matter how many children I had, each one would be my favorite—you and Jody hold an equal place in my heart.”

His eyes narrowed. “You can say that after what she did to our family?”

Sonia shifted in her chair, her thumb outlining the handle on her coffee mug. “Yes.” Her breath caught on a snag of hesitation. “Yes, Ben.” She looked him in the eye. “I can still say that.”

He slammed his coffee mug on the table, splattering the hot liquid all over the green vinyl tablecloth. “She ups and leaves without telling anyone where she’s going. Just a stupid note that says, ‘I’ve gone. Don’t come looking for me. I need my space.’ Her space? Sounds more like her own selfish way to me.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Seven years! How many private investigators and how much money have you spent on finding her?” He stood. “You should have listened to Dad. Let her go. Don’t try to find her. He never forgave her, you know.”

“What makes you think Dad didn’t forgive her?”

“How could he? Look at the hole she left in his heart—a hole that devoured him and sent him to an early grave.” He looked beyond her, peering out the window. “A hole that would swallow me up if I let it.” He shook his head. “But I won’t. My anger against her is all I have to keep me from falling in.”

“Withholding forgiveness is never the answer, Ben.”

He towered over her, fire in his eyes. “Who are you to talk? You haven’t forgiven her either. You just pretend you have.”

She lowered her voice, tamping down the anger threatening to spew forth. “Forgiveness is a decision, not a feeling.”

Ben’s glare cut deep. “Spiritual platitudes. That’s all you’re handing me. I’ll never forgive her for what she’s done.”

The sword of truth pierced Sonia’s heart as she watched Ben storm out of the room. If she were honest with herself, he was right. She hadn’t truly forgiven Jody either. As much as she loved her daughter, Sonia wanted Jody to suffer as much as she herself had suffered. As much as Rick and Ben had suffered. She wanted Jody to pay for all the pain she’d caused. By walking out on her family, Jody had left a wake of anger, confusion, and shame that had rocked their world, leaving them bruised, shaken, and shattered. Worst of all, Rick had taken his daughter’s disappearance so hard that Sonia was sure it had caused his death. How could she ever forgive Jody for that?

She rose and turned her attention back to the soup pot. She lifted it from the back burner and replaced it on the front one, then turned the gas to low heat. Chicken soup made a good lunch on a cold day.

But on this cold day, she no longer had an appetite.

 

****

 

Jody Pettit O’Dair held one blond-headed child snugly on her left hip as she pushed the other in the two-seater stroller. She’d picked the perfect day to take off from work to spend time with her children. Not a cloud in the brilliant blue sky. And the temperature was warm enough to take a swim, if one wanted to, in beautiful Sydney Harbor. Too bad she couldn’t spend every day with her kids. But a divorced, single mom had few, if any, other options.

She gazed at her three-year-old twins. They’d taken well to Hilda, their Irish-born babysitter. Too well. Each day when Jody picked them up after work, she fought pangs of jealousy at the sitter’s daily reports. “Micah slid down the slide all by himself today. And Greta loved the kangaroos at the zoo.” The childless, middle-aged woman clapped her hands in delight, oblivious to the pain she was causing the children’s mother.

Jody guided the stroller toward a sidewalk café overlooking the harbor. Its beauty never ceased to ignite her imagination and remind her of why she’d chosen this city as her place of escape. From the moment she’d seen a photo of Sydney in her junior high school geography book, she’d been captivated.

She hoisted Micah from her hip to her arms and headed toward a small corner table at the back of the café, in front of the large window. It would afford her some respite from the jostling crowds of tourists and Christmas shoppers flooding the sidewalks this time of year. Christmas always made her sad anyway when she remembered the life she’d foolishly left behind.

Too soon old and too late schmart. Her father’s words, spoken with a feigned German accent, came back to her as she recalled one of his favorite sayings.

How she missed him.

She pulled the stroller close to the table and set Micah in one of the chairs. Greta squirmed in her stroller seat, eager to be released from its confines. She wanted to be free.

Just like her mom.

But what had freedom brought? Only heartache and trouble. A man who’d taken advantage of her, lied to her, and then left her penniless. Two children she loved but always worried about. A job she hated but desperately needed.

This wasn’t the good life she’d expected when she left home.

Micah climbed down from his chair and rushed toward his sister. She giggled until he grabbed hold of her curly blonde hair and made her screech.

“Children, hush. Be good for mommy.”

The waiter arrived. “What may I bring you, ma’am?”

“One large cranberry juice on crushed ice and two small cups of apple juice for the children.”

The waiter nodded. “Be right back, ma’am.”

Jody looked out the window at the crowds of people on the busy city street, everyone heading somewhere. Where was she headed? Long years of searching for freedom had left her only more imprisoned than ever.

The waiter returned with the drinks. “Here you go, ma’am. Enjoy this fine day.” He left the check on the table and departed.

As Jody tasted the cool, refreshing drink, the twins began to fuss again. She offered them their apple juice. After a few sips, they pushed away the cups. Funny how they usually reacted exactly the same way to similar situations. It had to be genetic.

An American accent coming from a middle-aged couple at a nearby table caught her ear. Although Sydney was a cosmopolitan city, she didn’t often hear American accents. The sound tugged at her heart with longing and remorse. She’d been gone so long, with no news of family or friends. It was her fault, of course. All her fault. Her plan to find freedom had backfired. Instead, she’d become a prisoner of her own selfish desires.

She drew in a deep breath. The early afternoon sun shining through the window warmed her fair skin. On the other side of the equator, back in Falls Church, Virginia, winter was in full swing. One thing she’d never get used to, no matter how long she lived in Australia, was Christmas in summer. The two were an incompatible match.

Signs of the season abounded everywhere. Shoppers hustled in and out of stores, carrying large shopping bags filled with gifts. Sidewalk vendors peddled miniature gingerbread houses whose delightful designs and spicy aromas filled the air. Across the street, a large Christmas tree, decorated with gold and silver bells, stood in the storefront window of a department store. Along the sidewalk, hand-woven baskets of red-berried holly hung from Victorian streetlamps whose posts were wrapped in red and green ribbon. From a loudspeaker atop a music store, strains of Silent Night filled the afternoon air.

The music transported Jody to another time, another place. Falls Church at Christmastime was a Currier and Ives postcard. Shop owners of City Center vied for attention and sales as they decorated their storefronts with colored lights, frosted windows, and homemade wreaths. Mom had probably already placed the large Christmas wreath on the front door in anticipation of the season. The wreath the two of them had made together from acorns that had fallen from the large oak tree in the backyard.

Jody swallowed the lump in her throat as she pictured the freshly cut, long-needled pine sitting in its corner in the living room, where it sat every year for as long as she could remember. Mom never used store-bought decorations. She’d always insisted on making her own or having Jody and Ben make them. Year after year, Mom would take out the same old decorations, now worn and crumpled, and display them proudly on the tree. She’d add a few new homemade trimmings and then finish everything off with the silver tinsel garland that should have been trashed years before. Mom was a traditionalist if Jody ever saw one. Suddenly she yearned to be home in that living room, trimming the tree with Mom, Dad, and Ben.

But could she ever go back? Would they welcome her or turn her away? Would they understand how sorry she was for what she’d done, or would they disown her? What would she do if they rejected her? Where would she go then, and with two small kids?

Micah threw a tantrum right in the middle of the café. Jody swallowed the last of her cranberry juice then swept him off the floor. “I’ll have none of that, Micah O’Dair, do you hear me?” He kicked and scratched ‘til she had him strapped securely in the stroller, next to a dozing Greta. How the child could sleep with her brother screaming at her side Jody would never understand. Maybe she’d slept, too, when Ben had tantrums.

But then, Ben never had tantrums.

She did.

Her stomach tied into a knot. She couldn’t go home. Not now. Not ever. Best to banish the thought forever. Some things in life were just impossible.

 

****

 

Sonia put the soup pot in the fridge. Ben hadn’t wanted any. Said he’d promised to meet some old high school friends for lunch. Catch-up time during Christmas break and all that good stuff.

She shut the refrigerator door and leaned her back against it. She was losing Ben, too. Not physically like Jody but in a way that was far worse. She was losing Ben’s heart. She’d tried hard to be a good mother to both of her children. But somewhere along the way she’d failed. Failed miserably.

Like a dark pall, fear overshadowed her. The same icy fear that had stalked her life ever since Jody’s disappearance. The same fear that had intensified its grip on her since Rick’s untimely death. Would it ever go away? Would she ever find peace again?

Sonia made her way toward her favorite chair by the big bay window in the den. Her “fellowship chair” she called it. The precious place where each morning she met her Lord and had fellowship with Him.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, covering the branches of the old oak tree with bands of white trim. Except for the sound of an occasional passing car, all was quiet.

She sank into the soft cushions and reached for her Bible. The Word of God always brought her comfort, even in the worst of storms. Now, once again, she sought its healing balm within its pages.

Her spirit fed on the words before her. “But if you will not forgive, neither will your Father that is in heaven, forgive your sins.”

There it was again. The command to forgive. But what did it really mean? Did it mean becoming a doormat to ill treatment by an ungrateful daughter? Did it mean condoning Jody’s despicable behavior? Did it mean letting her off the hook with no consequences?

Ben was right. She had not forgiven Jody. At least not from her heart. She’d hung on to the perverse pleasure of wanting her daughter to pay for the pain she’d caused them. Vengeance the Bible called it. But the right to inflict punishment belonged only to God. Yet she’d tried to take that right into her own hands. She’d wanted to punish Jody.

She’d wanted to play God.

She burst into tears, seeing for the first time the depth of her sin.

Conviction nudged at her soul. “Father, I want to forgive Jody, but I can’t in my own strength. She hurt me too deeply. Yet, I want to obey you, Lord. Help me to forgive my daughter. Restore our broken relationship. Bring her back to me, Lord. I pray in Jesus’ Name. Amen.”

 

****

 

Jody sat at her work computer and re-read the e-mail from Mr. Grossman’s office. In her six and a half years as an administrative assistant at Grossman Manufacturing, an American firm based in Australia, she’d met the big boss only once, and that was at the orientation for new employees. Even back then, he’d seemed formidable and totally unapproachable. When she’d gotten the message earlier that morning to report to his office at eleven o’clock sharp, her imagination had run wild. Why did he want to see her? What could she have done wrong? The misdeed had to be something terrible. She racked her brain for possible reasons for the boss’s summons. It was all she could do to keep from panicking for the two hours before the meeting.

Shortly before eleven, she left her cubicle and headed for Mr. Grossman’s office located on the floor just above hers. Nervously flexing her fists, she took the elevator to the third floor and walked down the long hallway to the large suite at the end. Her heart pounded and her mouth was dry. She forced her mind not to picture the worst. As she approached his office, she rubbed her sweaty palms against her slacks to dry them. Then, taking a deep breath, she opened the door into the reception area.

A middle-aged, well-coiffed receptionist sat at a small desk, her eyes glued to a computer screen.

“Excuse me. I’m Jody O’Dair. Mr. Grossman asked to see me.”

The woman looked up and smiled. “Yes, Mr. Grossman is expecting you. I’ll tell him you’re here. His office is through the door on the right.” She pressed an intercom button and announced Jody’s arrival.

Jody’s heart raced. She walked through the door, and the smell of an extinguished cigar struck her nostrils with force. She coughed. Saundra, her co-worker, had warned her about the boss. He was old-school business, the fading breed that made decisions over strong black coffee and high-priced cigars. He was a patriot, too, and bought only cigars manufactured in the Eastern United States.

Jody approached the desk. The room was large and spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Sydney. On one wall, built-in mahogany bookcases displayed leather-bound volumes and several bronze sculptures. In the background, Jody could barely hear Vivaldi’s Four Seasons playing on the radio.

She stopped at the desk. Behind it sat the man who held her future in his hands.

He looked up, a sheaf of papers in his hands. “Good morning, Mrs. O’Dair.”

Yes. He was old school, all right, still using Mrs. instead of Ms.

“Please have a seat.”

Jody sat down in the narrow brown leather chair in front of the desk and clasped her hands in her lap. “You asked to see me, sir.”

He pushed his glasses against the bridge of his nose. “Yes. Yes, indeed. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Mrs. O’Dair, but we find it necessary to dismiss you.”

A rush of fear shot through Jody’s veins. “Dismiss me? But you can’t dismiss me. I need this job.”

Mr. Grossman peered at her over the upper edge of his wide-rimmed glasses. “I understand, Mrs. O’Dair. For that very reason, it pains me greatly to have to let you go, but I simply cannot afford to keep you. The board and I have agonized over this decision, but there is nothing else we can do to avoid bankruptcy. Business has plummeted dangerously in the last several months, and I must let several of my lower-level employees go.”

“But what will I do? I have two small children to support.” She would not cry, especially not in front of him. “I’m all alone.” The last words cut deep into her soul even as she spoke them. Yes. She was all alone. No one to go to. Nowhere to turn.

“Perhaps you will find another job, although I know things are tough for everyone in this economy. I will be happy to give you an excellent reference. You have been one of our better employees.”

His words swirled over her, like storm clouds being driven in circles by a raging whirlwind.

She sat there for a moment longer, struggling to process what had just happened. “Are you sure you can’t put me in another department? I’ll do anything. Even scrub floors. Only please don’t fire me.”

Never did she dream that her desire for freedom would bring her to the point of utter desperation. Of abject begging. Of relinquishing her dignity and self-respect just to survive.

“Mrs. O’Dair, if there were something I could do for you, I would surely do it. But there is no work I can offer you at this point.” He stood, signaling her dismissal. “I will, however, keep your file in the event that something does come up.”

Jody caught the cue. She rose, her mind reeling in disbelief. “Very well, then. I’ll clean out my desk and return the office keys before I go.” She turned to leave.

“Mrs. O’Dair?”

Jody’s heart leapt. “Yes?” Maybe he’d changed his mind.

“Thank you for your service to our company.”

Her throat burned. As her world crumbled around her, she could only nod.

 

****

 

Sonia turned on the CD of traditional Christmas carols and started trimming the tree. After Rick’s death, she’d purchased a small artificial tree, just the right size for the credenza in front of the picture window in the living room. She could no longer bring herself to go to the tree farm where she and Rick had gone every year since their marriage.

Memories of the four of them making the yearly jaunt together right after Thanksgiving flooded her mind. She could still hear their shouts of delight as they found the perfect tree. Rick would cut it down, tie it with a length of thick rope he’d brought with him, and load it in the back of his pickup truck. Then they would all climb into the cab of the truck and drive home singing Christmas carols at decibel levels that could raise the dead.

A sob caught in her throat. Rick. The man she’d loved for twenty-eight wonderful years of marriage. Their life together had been cut off too soon. He’d been in his prime. The picture of health. Vibrant. Energetic. Excited about the future.

Until Jody’s disappearance.

After that, he’d become a different person, developed a heart condition, and within a few months, he was no longer the same Rick she’d married. He’d grown sullen. Morose. And angry. Sonia had never seen him release his pent up rage. Irritated at times, but never truly irate. Then his anger had turned to bitterness. A bitterness he’d held on to until the day he died.

All of her admonitions to surrender his life to Christ, to be born again, had meant nothing. When she’d urged him to forgive Jody, he’d become either enraged or withdrawn. No in between. No humble seeking of God’s help.

No repentance.

At least not that she knew of, unless he’d repented at the last moment.

Her heart shuddered. Losing Rick physically was bad enough, but the thought of losing him eternally was more than she could bear.

When she’d asked the doctor the cause of death, he’d looked at her a long time before replying. Then, with moistened eyes, he’d said, “Sonia, you know Rick had a heart problem. The stress of not knowing where Jody was weighed heavily on him. His heart just gave out. You could say Rick died of a broken heart.”

A broken heart. Could someone really die of a broken heart? If so, why was she still alive? Could anyone’s heart be more broken than her own? She, the one who’d carried Jody in her womb for nine months? Who’d endured the excruciating pains of childbirth? Who’d given up her own dreams to ensure that her daughter could fulfill her own?

She picked up an ornament from the storage box. Across the heart-shaped gold surface were engraved the words Love Never Fails. A gift from her women’s Bible study group. She hung it carefully on the tree, in a prominent place where she would be reminded of its message. God knew she would need it in the lonely days ahead.

Only she and Ben were left now. And Ben seemed emotionally absent most of the time. After Jody’s disappearance, he’d become bitter. And after his dad’s death, his heart had hardened. At times, Sonia hardly recognized him. The son who had once been so tender and open to her had now grown distant and cold. Perhaps the Christmas season would remind him once again of the Savior’s love.

She reached for another ornament, and then another. One by one, she relived the memories. A flat silver ornament on a green string held a picture of Jody in the second grade. She’d made it with her own hands and then given it to Sonia and Rick as a Christmas present. On the back, Jody had printed her name and the year with a red crayon.

Tears spilled down Sonia’s cheeks as she hung the ornament right in front on the Christmas tree. Soon all of the ornaments were on the tree. There remained only the Star of Bethlehem to place at the top. She’d have Ben do that since he was much taller than she.

The snow continued to fall. Ben should be back soon. She’d get dinner started right away. Perhaps they could watch a movie. Anything to distract her from the overwhelming sorrow that ate at her heart.

 

****

 

By the time Jody reached Hilda’s house, a heavy rain had begun to fall. She parked her old blue Toyota Corolla—the only thing her ex-husband had left her besides a shattered life—alongside the curb and grabbed an umbrella from the backseat. The last thing she needed was for the children to get wet and catch cold.

Hilda greeted her at the door, one twin in her arms, the other tugging at her dress. “Oh, Jody, you missed a special event today.”

Jody didn’t think her heart could sink any lower, but it did.

“Micah rode his tricycle all by himself today.”

Jody burst into tears.

A look of concern spread across Hilda’s face. “Dear me, child. Did I say something wrong? I thought you’d be right proud of your boy.”

Jody couldn’t stop crying.

“Here now. Let’s get you in out of the rain.” The babysitter drew her into the room and shut the door. “I’m hopin’ those are tears of joy.”

Jody found a tissue in her purse and blew her nose. “I’m sorry, Hilda. It’s just that... It’s just that...”

“There, there, now. Not bein’ a mum meself, I don’t understand these things, but I dare say Micah has done a good thing, eh?”

Jody got control of herself. “A very good thing, Hilda. A very good thing, indeed.” She stooped down to Micah’s level. “Micah, mommy is so very proud of you. You are such a big boy.” Jody burst into tears again and drew Micah toward her in a tight embrace.

The boy nestled his head in the crux of her neck. “I rode my tricycle all by myself today, Mommy.” Then he lifted his head and gave Jody a smile that melted her heart.

“Hilda, I need to talk with you. Just for a moment.”

The older woman took Jody’s hand. “By all means. Would you like a cup of tea while we chat?”

“No, thank you. I need to get the children home. The rain is coming down hard, and I don’t want them out in this bad weather.”

“All right then. What would you tell me?”

Jody took Hilda’s hand. “I was fired from my job today. So I have no money to continue paying you. Of course, with no job, I can take care of the children myself—until I find another job, that is.”

“Oh, lassie. I’m so sorry to hear the news. But don’t you go worryin’ your tender little heart. The Lord, He will provide a way.”

Jody’s emotions stirred as she held Hilda’s gaze. “My mother used to tell me the same thing. That the Lord will make a way.”

“Well, your mother was tellin’ you the truth, child.”

“Hilda, as soon as I find another job, I’ll call you. There’s no one I trust more than you to take care of my children.”

“Thank you. That makes me glad. But I wonder if your own mother might make a better sitter than I.”

Jody’s muscles tensed. “My mother lives almost ten thousand miles away. On the continent of North America. In the state of Virginia.”

Hilda gasped. “Ten thousand miles! My, oh my. That’s far indeed. I know little about Virginia, except for what I’ve seen on the television. From what I remember, ‘tis a lovely place.”

For the first time that day, Jody smiled. “It is very lovely, Hilda. I wish I could take you there to see for yourself.”

“Will you be goin’ back?”

Jody’s heart caught. “I’d love to go back, but... “

“But what, child?”

Jody drew in a deep breath. “Let’s just say I left under difficult circumstances. I’m not sure my family would welcome me back.”

Hilda’s eyes grew wide. “T’ain’t no mother on earth in her right mind wouldn’t welcome a child who’d been gone, regardless of the reason.”

Jody took Hilda’s hands. “I’m afraid you may be a bit naïve, Hilda. Some mothers would rather never see their children again than forgive them.”

“But surely your mother is not one of them. If she were, she could never have produced a child as good as you.”

Jody suppressed a smile. “You don’t know me very well, Hilda. I’m not all you think I am.”

The older woman furrowed her brow. “You’ve been lyin’ to me, then?”

“Oh, no. Not lying. I’ve never lied to you, Hilda.” Jody lowered her eyes. “It’s just that I walked out on my family without telling them where I was going. I just left them a note. To this day, they have no idea where I am.”

“Lord, have mercy. You must tell them then, child. They’re probably frantic and worried sick over you.”

“Yes, I’m certain they are.” Jody looked up. “But it’s been seven years, Hilda. Seven long years. They’ve gone on with their lives without me. For me to contact them and try to re-enter their lives would be very selfish, wouldn’t it?”

“If you don’t mind my sayin’ so, I think you’re sorely mistaken.” Hilda picked up Greta and cradled her face. “Look at this cherub. If she disappeared for seven years and then came back, what would you do?”

Tears filled Jody’s eyes. “I’d hug her ˈtil there was no strength left in me. Then I’d hug her some more.”

“There now. You see.” Hilda tapped Jody’s arm. “And that’s exactly what your own mother will do when she sees you again.”

Jody sighed. “I wish I could be as confident as you.”

“Listen, child. I ain’t one to be givin’ advice unless asked, but I feel I need to give you my opinion. Go home to your family. Now is the best time. Look, the Lord has made a way for you by havin’ you fired.”

Jody laughed at the irony of it all. “So God had me fired?”

“Why, of course. Don’t you see? He’s wantin’ you to make amends with your family. Now’s the time, child. Now’s the time.”

A clap of thunder interrupted Jody’s thoughts. She placed a hand on Hilda’s arm. “Thank you. You have no idea how you’ve helped me today. When I left the office, I was in a daze. I had no idea which way to turn or what direction to take. But now I know what to do. I’m going to empty out my meager savings and go back home to Virginia. I have a better chance of finding work there. Best of all, my children will grow up around their grandparents and their uncle.”

Hilda smiled. “That’s the right thing to do, child. The right thing to do for sure.”

“Oh, Hilda. If I go, can you use a car? I have to get rid of mine.”

“̍Twould be a good thing to have, but I’m not able to buy it from you.”

“No, Hilda. I want to give it to you. It’s falling apart and hardly worth anything, but it will do for local traveling.”

Hilda hesitated.

“You’d be doing me a big favor by taking it. Otherwise, I’ll just donate it to a junkyard.”

“Well, if that be the case, then I’ll take it off your hands.”

“Thank you. I’ll drop it off on my way to the airport and then take a cab from here.”

Hilda nodded. “I’m much obliged to you for the gift.”

“I’m the one who is much obliged to you, Hilda.” Jody embraced the babysitter who had become like a second mother to her. “Stay well.”

“You too, child.” She chuckled. “You got a lot of livin’ to do yet takin’ care of those angels.”

Jody laughed. “Let’s go, angels. Say goodbye to Auntie Hilda.”

Hilda picked up the twins one at a time and gave them a bear hug. Tears rolled down the older woman’s cheeks. “Now you be good for your mommy, you hear?” She handed Micah to Jody and took Greta by the hand.

When they reached the door, Jody embraced Hilda a second time. “Thank you again. When I get back home, I’ll write to you. Maybe one day, you’ll come to visit.”

The older woman laughed through her tears. “Imagine that. Old Hilda McNulty flyin’ in a big airplane to the other side of the world. That’ll give the neighbors somethin’ to talk about for a long, long time, won’t it now?”

Jody laughed too, grateful that the bad news of the day had turned into the prospect of a better future.

Or at least she hoped so.

 

****

 

The sound of the key rattling in the front door awakened Sonia. She lifted her head from the couch. “Ben, is that you?”

“Who else would it be?’ His words slurred.

Sonia pushed back the coverlet and sat up. “What time is it?”

“Half past eleven.”

“Half past eleven?” She rose and straightened her clothes. “Where have you been?”

He smelled of alcohol.

“Just out with my friends, catching up on life.”

Sonia approached him. “Ben Pettit, have you been drinking?”

Ben gave her a weak smile. “Come on, Mom. Can’t a guy have a beer once in a while?”

“I think you’ve had more than one. And I’m worried that it’s becoming more than once in a while.”

His face contorted, and anger flashed in his eyes. For an instant, Sonia feared him.

“Look, Mom, I’m not a drunk, if that’s what you’re worried about. I can handle my liquor.”

“Liquor? I thought it was just beer you were drinking.”

“Beer. Liquor. It’s all the same.”

She reached for Ben’s arm, but he drew back. “Ben, we need to talk.”

“Yeah. But how about tomorrow? I’m kind of beat right now.”

Perhaps he was right. In his current frame of mind, he’d only get angrier. Tomorrow, after he’d slept, his mind would be clear enough for talking.

“Fine. Go get some rest. But tomorrow we’re going to discuss what’s going on inside you.”

He approached her, a contrite look on his face. “I love you, Mom. Really I do.” As he put his arms around her shoulders, he stumbled, nearly knocking her over.

Sonia shoved her right shoulder under his arm to support him and led him down the hallway to his bedroom.

He collapsed onto the bed.

She removed his shoes and left him there to sleep off the drunkenness. Then kneeling by his bed, she offered a heart-wrenching prayer for her only son.

 

****

 

Three days after her layoff, Jody found herself in Kingsford Smith Airport with the twins waiting for their Delta airline flight to Washington, DC. The plane would make two stops along the way, one in Los Angeles and one in New York, before proceeding to Dulles International Airport in the District of Columbia.

She’d decided not to alert her family ahead of time of her return. Better not turn their lives upside down again. Especially since she’d be arriving on their doorstep on Christmas Eve of all days. She’d done enough damage already without inflicting more. She’d just show up at her parents’ house and check the waters at that point to determine the temperature. If she sensed a warm, welcoming tide, she’d stay. If she didn’t, she’d go to a shelter until she landed a job and an apartment for herself and the twins.

But she hoped against hope that her family would welcome her with forgiving hearts and open arms. If her parents rejected her, maybe seeing their grandchildren would soften them and give them a reason to let her stay. As for Ben, he’d likely be shocked but overjoyed to see his big sister again.

Jody braced herself. She’d never traveled out of Sydney with the children, let alone half way across the globe. The evening departure was right around the twins’ bedtime, so they’d sleep for a good part of the trip.

“Flight 3816 departing for Washington, DC, via Los Angeles and New York. All passengers are requested to begin boarding now.”

Jody threw her knapsack over one shoulder, her tote bag over the other, and grabbed each twin by the hand. She held them tightly as they made their way to the line forming at the gate.

“Where are we going, Mommy?” Greta’s squeaky voice rose above the chatter.

“We’re going to America.”

Micah chimed in. “Where’s America?”

“It’s far, far away.”

Greta pulled back. “But I don’t want to go far, far away. I want to go home.”

Jody smiled at her daughter. “We are going home, darling.”

“Flight 3816 now boarding. Please present your boarding pass.”

Jody reached into her tote bag and pulled out the boarding passes—three of them—and handed them to the clerk at the desk. Then, following the other passengers ahead of her, she led the children down the Jetway to the plane.

A male flight attendant confirmed their seats. “An attendant will be happy to help you with your children once you’re settled.”

“Thank you.” Jody smiled and proceeded down the aisle. They had a whole row entirely to themselves. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least the children wouldn’t be climbing all over the other passengers for the next twenty-four hours.

She put Micah at the window, Greta in the center, and she took the end. No chance of the children getting up and wandering around on their own. She’d provide the perfect barricade between them and the aisle.

Micah stood and pressed his face against the thick window.

“Micah, you need to sit down. The plane will be taking off soon, and no one is allowed to stand during takeoff.”

“But I want to see outside.”

“You’ll be able to once we’re up in the sky.”

Greta squirmed. “I want to look out the window, too.”

Jody sighed. This was going to be a long flight.

She fastened the children’s seatbelts and then fastened her own. The plane filled quickly. The captain turned on the loud speaker. “We are preparing for takeoff. Please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts. We will be taxiing down the runway shortly. There are two other flights ahead of us. As soon as we get clearance, we will depart. Thank you for your cooperation. Enjoy the flight.”

Jody looked at her children. So small. So vulnerable. So tired. Was she doing the right thing uprooting them from all they’d known to take them to the other side of the world? She wasn’t even sure what she’d find when she got there.

The airplane jerked forward, startling her.

Greta grabbed her mother’s hand. “What happened, Mommy?”

“The plane started moving.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Wait ˈtil we lift off. You’ll love flying way up in the sky like a bird.”

Micah laughed aloud. “Will I turn into a bird, Mommy?”

Jody smiled. “No, darling. But you’ll feel like a bird when the plane climbs high up into the sky.”

At that moment, a flight attendant approached to ensure that their seatbelts had been fastened. She smiled at the children and offered each of them a small bag of pretzels.

“What do you say to the nice lady, children?”

“Thank you, nice lady,” the twins responded in unison.

The attendant laughed. “It’s a long flight. If you need a babysitter along the way, just holler.”

Jody smiled. “I may take you up on that offer.”

In a few moments, they were airborne. Once the seatbelt signal was turned off, Jody leaned her head against the back of the seat. After the excitement of liftoff, the twins settled down, their eyelids shutting tightly under the heavy weight of sleep.

Relieved that the children were asleep, Jody thought of the future. What lay ahead for her? For the twins? For her family? How good it would be to see her mom and dad again. And Ben. Good old Ben. He was a grown man by now. When she’d left, he was only fifteen, just starting to grow facial hair. How handsome he’d been even then. He must be a lady-killer now.

As the plane cut through the skies over the Pacific, she thought of her father. A quiet man who didn’t say much, he’d always made her feel loved. What had possessed her to leave such a wonderful family? But at eighteen, she’d succumbed to the lure of adventure, the siren call of freedom, the promise of something better than what she had. She’d replaced common sense with foolishness.

Sounds of Jingle Bells echoed over the loud speaker. The song they used to sing as a family on the way home from cutting down their Christmas tree. A lump formed in her throat. Surely Dad and Mom had already chopped down the tree for this year’s Christmas celebration. But maybe, just maybe, they’d waited. Maybe, just maybe, she could be part of that festivity once more, but this time with her parents’ grandchildren adding to the fun.

Excitement began to grow within her. She’d expect the best. She would believe her parents’ love for her would supersede all the grief she’d surely caused them. She’d trust they would be so glad to see her they would put the past behind them.

But as she drifted off to sleep, a nagging voice whispered, What if they won’t?

 

****

 

Sonia tossed and turned on her bed. As much as she tried not to worry, Ben’s drunkenness played over and over again in her mind. Where had she gone wrong? Both of her children had major issues. Surely she was to blame somehow or somewhere along the way. Jody had walked out on them, and Ben had turned to alcohol. The common denominator was a need to escape. But escape from what? And why? Hadn’t she taught her children to look to God for their strength? For their identity. For their purpose.

Apparently not.

If only Rick were alive. He’d put things in the right perspective for her. He’d tell her she’d done her best and the decisions her children made as adults were no longer her responsibility. But would she believe him this time?

She threw the covers off and sat on the side of the bed. Maybe a cup of chamomile tea would soothe the tormenting thoughts of inadequacy and failure. Anything to distract her from the thought that her future, along with that of her children, was hurling toward destruction.

 

****

 

Dulles International Airport bustled with activity as Jody and the twins entered the concourse shortly before midnight. The nearly twenty-five-hour flight, with two layovers along the way, had left her exhausted and needing badly to stretch. Groggy from the long journey, the twins whimpered and whined.

She guided them onto the AeroTrain to get from the concourse to the main area. She’d get them all a bite to eat and then check in at a local hotel for the night. Good thing she didn’t have any baggage other than her knapsack and tote bag. Before she left, she’d donated the little furniture she’d owned to a charity in Sydney and given away most of her clothes and other belongings to a local church.

She spotted a restaurant a short distance ahead. “Let’s get something to eat.” Jody led Micah and Greta to the small eatery, excited about eating an American hamburger once again. This would be her children’s first experience eating a real hamburger with french fries.

Despite the lateness of the hour, the place was crowded. As she approached the red and white checkered counter, a deep love for her homeland overwhelmed her. What false expectation of happiness had persuaded her to leave the great country of her birth and the love of her family for a pipe dream that had ended in heartache? Except for the twins, she had nothing to show for those wasted years of searching for a freedom that still remained elusive.

The girl at the counter asked for her order.

“Three regular burgers, one large fries, and three sodas, please.” Jody paid the girl and found a table while the order was being filled.

An hour later, hunger satisfied, Jody and the children boarded the shuttle to the Holiday Inn at Dulles Airport. They’d spend the night there before continuing their journey to her parents’ home.

Midnight had passed by the time they’d settled into their hotel room. She put the twins to bed right away. Within moments, they were sound asleep.

Exhausted, she climbed into bed with them. As D-Day drew imminent, she hoped a good night’s rest would calm the crippling fear invading her soul.

 

****

 

The memory of Ben’s drunken episode the night before jolted Sonia awake and into reality. Despite the darkness of the pre-dawn hour and a fitful sleep that had left her still tired, she rose, put on her robe, and headed for the kitchen. A cup of strong coffee would help clear her head, and time with God would prepare her for her confrontation with Ben later that morning. With Christmas only a day away, she wanted to handle Ben in a way that wouldn’t alienate him and make things worse.

Although she’d suspected he drank, she’d never smelled liquor on his breath before last night nor had she seen him drunk. Such behavior was out of character for her son. Surely he was in deep emotional pain, and she would get to the root of it.

She poured herself a cup of black coffee, longing for Rick’s presence. Rick always knew what to do, especially when it came to their children. Until he was gone, she’d never realized how much she’d leaned on him. Now, she had to face things alone.

I will never leave you nor forsake you.

Tears sprang to Sonia’s eyes. “Thank You, Lord. Thank You for always being there for me.”

She took her coffee mug and headed for her fellowship chair. She opened her devotional book and turned to December 24th. Christmas Eve. How quickly time passed. The passage for the day was Proverbs 3:5-6: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, submit to Him and He will make your paths straight.” Sonia pondered the words. Was she submitting to God in all her ways? Only then would He make her paths straight. She examined her heart. “Lord, if I am not submitting to You, show me where I am going my own way.”

She listened but heard nothing. What was God saying to her? That there was no area in which she was not submitting to Him? Doubtful. Perhaps an answer would come later. For now, she’d focus on the chief need of the day—confronting Ben.

But how to do so in a way that wouldn’t ruin Christmas Eve for them both?

 

****

 

The hotel room alarm clock sounded its piercing cry at 8:00 AM sharp. Jody groaned as she fumbled for the off button. It couldn’t be morning already. She hoped the alarm hadn’t startled the children.

Remembering where she was, she opened her eyes wide. Today was Homecoming Day. The day she’d both longed for and dreaded. The day that would seal her fate and the fate of her children.

Today was also Christmas Eve.

She looked over at Greta and Micah still fast asleep in the large king-sized bed they’d shared with her. She’d chosen it on purpose so the twins would feel safe during their first night in a hotel. So many new experiences for them in the last couple of days. Although they couldn’t verbalize their feelings well, she could sense their distress in their whining. Jody put herself in their shoes. How would she have felt at three years of age, giving up all that was familiar to go to a country on the other side of the world? The big airplane, the long flight, the strange hotel. No wonder her children were grumpy. But maybe it was her fault. Maybe she wasn’t making the whole trip enough of an adventure.

Or maybe they were sensing her anxiety at going home.

She’d be more careful of her attitude.

To her surprise, the children slept through the alarm clock. They must have been totally exhausted. She rose and poured water into the two-cup coffeepot provided in the room then added the complimentary morning roast. As the coffee brewed, she washed her face and brushed her teeth. She’d taken a shower the night before, after the children had fallen asleep. So all that remained was to get dressed, get the children bathed, dressed, and fed, and check out of the hotel. She’d planned to arrive at her parents’ home late that afternoon, before dark and in time to celebrate Christmas Eve with her family.

At least that was her plan.

A chill coursed through her body. If things didn’t go as planned, where would she go with two small children on Christmas Eve?

She put the thought out of her mind. She needed to keep a positive attitude. If not for herself, at least for the kids.

“Mommy?” Greta’s squeaky voice broke through Jody’s thoughts.

“Yes, honey. Mommy’s right here.”

Jody walked toward the bed where Greta sat with outstretched arms.

“I want my mommy.”

Jody picked her daughter up and held her close. “And your mommy wants you, sweetheart. I’m right here. Don’t be afraid.”

“Micah kicked me while I was asleep.”

Micah’s groggy voice piped up from under the covers. “I did not.”

Jody laughed. “Greta, how do you know Micah kicked you if you were asleep when he did it?”

“Because I know.” Greta buried her head in Jody’s shoulder.

“I didn’t kick you, Greta.”

Jody sighed. “OK, OK. Let’s not argue. Let’s be happy because today is the big day.”

Micah sat up in the bed. “What big day?”

Jody took Micah’s hand and drew him toward her. “Today is the big day you meet your grandma and your grandpa.”

Greta pressed against Jody’s chest. “But I’m scared to meet my grandma and my grandpa. I don’t even know who they are.”

A pang of remorse flooded Jody’s soul. “It’s my fault you don’t know who they are. But today I’ll fix that. Your grandma and grandpa are wonderful people who love you.”

Micah furrowed his brows. “But how can they love us if they don’t know us.”

Jody pondered her son’s profound words. “The best way to answer that question, Micah, is to have you meet them. When you do, you’ll understand. Now, let’s get up and at ‘em, shall we?” Jody tickled Micah’s belly.

Greta giggled as her brother began to laugh uncontrollably.

 

****

 

Sonia was nursing her second cup of coffee when Ben walked into the den. She suppressed a smile. He was the perfect commercial for bedhead.

He flopped on the sofa opposite her chair. “So there you are.” He stretched out his long legs on the braided rug in front of him.

“Where else would I be this time of day? It’s only eight thirty.”

“You gotta be kidding. I coulda slept another two hours at least.”

Sonia leaned back. “I guess you could have, but it’s Christmas Eve. Don’t you want to do something extraordinary on this very special of days?” She took a steadying breath. Remnants of last night’s fear lingered as she entered cautiously into the conversation.

Ben folded his arms behind his head. “Come on, Mom. It’s like any other day, and you know it.”

Sonia stiffened. “No, I don’t know it, Ben. For as along as I can remember, Christmas Eve has been a very special day to me.”

“Well, it used to be for me, too, but not anymore.”

She considered the pros and cons of her next question then decided to ask it. “What changed for you, Ben?”

His face grew taut. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that question. You know very well what changed.”

Sonia studied the son she loved more than life itself. The son who, as a little boy, had nursed a wounded robin back to health. Ben had never been hard. His bitterness was a cover-up for his deep hurt. “Every day things change, Ben, and every day we have to adjust to change if we want to survive and continue to live.”

“If you call what you do living...

Sonia took a deep breath. “What do you call living?”

He gave her a smirk. “What I did last night, that’s living.”

Lord, give me the right words to say. “So, you think getting drunk is living?”

“That and—”

“And what, Ben?”

His face turned red. “And a few other things I did.”

Sonia’s heart wrenched as the meaning of his words sank deep into her soul. “Your actions may have felt like living at the moment, but in retrospect, do you consider them living?”

His face contorted. “You know nothing about living. What do you have to show for your so-called living, huh? A daughter who turned her back on you, a dead husband, and a drunk of a son. Is that living? If it is, you can have it.” He rose and stormed out of the room.

Sonia leaned her head on the back of the chair and sighed.

So much for confrontation.

And so much for a merry Christmas Eve.

 

****

 

The engine of the Washington Flyer bus purred as Jody approached its entrance. Putting the twins in front of her, she guided them up the short flight of steps and down the aisle to an empty seat. This was the last leg of their journey. She was finally going home.

Or was she?

Her heart raced and her muscles tensed as the bus pulled out of the station. She looked out the window. Snow was falling thickly now, completely covering the ground in a blanket of white. She glanced at her wristwatch. Two twelve. In a half hour, they’d be in Falls Church. Then the trip from the bus station to her parents’ home would take another twenty minutes by cab.

While Micah and Greta entertained themselves reciting nursery rhymes and playing finger games, Jody rehearsed her first words to her family. Depending on who answered the door, she’d prepared something to say to her mother or her father. Ben never answered the door unless he was home alone. Even then, he didn’t always answer it, so she hadn’t prepared anything to say to him. She’d just have to trust her instincts on that one. Knowing herself, she’d probably forget everything she’d rehearsed for her mom and dad, too.

The bus clipped along the highway at a steady pace, keeping up with traffic. The mid-afternoon run was quicker. Once four o’clock rolled around, the road would jam as workers started their daily trek home. Good thing they’d missed rush-hour traffic.

As the bus entered Falls Church proper, familiar sights came into view. Although the town had changed since she’d left, Jody still recognized her old high school, home of the Falls Church Jaguars, with its large symbol of a jaguar’s head over the main entrance. A little farther ahead was a new pizzeria that hadn’t been there prior to her departure. A new strip mall had been built on the site of a former open field.

The bus pulled into the West Falls Church Metro Station right on schedule at precisely 2:40 PM. “Time to exit.” Jody grabbed her backpack and tote bag and ushered the twins off the bus. She descended first then helped each of them navigate the steps. Once the twins had descended, she took their hands and looked for a taxi cab.

A row of yellow vehicles lined the curb. She stopped at the first one and leaned over at the open passenger-side window. “We need to go to 708 West Oak Street. Are you available?”

An Asian driver nodded with a smile. “Jump in. I’ll get you there in no time.”

Jody held her breath. “I’m in no hurry. I have two small children, so please drive safely.”

“No problem. I got three kids myself. Not to worry.”

She opened the back door and gently nudged Micah and Greta into the back seat. Then she climbed in next to them.

In a few moments they reached West Oak Street. Jody’s hands grew clammy, her breath short. The point of no return had arrived.

Or had it?

She could still turn back. Still avoid rejection.

Still live a life of what ifs.

“Here we are, ma’am. That will be eighteen dollars.”

“Eighteen dollars!” The words escaped her lips without warning.

The cab driver smiled. “Sorry, but the cost of living, it go up. Have five mouths to feed. Three kids, my wife, and me.” He poked himself hard in the chest and chuckled.

“I guess you’re right. The cost of living has gone up. It’s just that—well, I’ve been out of the country for a while, so the price came as a bit of a surprise.” She handed him a twenty-dollar bill “Thank you. Keep the change.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He nodded toward the children. “You got two beautiful kids.”

His warm demeanor softened the eighteen-dollar blow. “Thank you.”

She opened the back door, removed her knapsack and tote bag from the floor, and took first Greta, then Micah, by the hand. Then she closed the door and watched the cab take off.

Slowly she turned. In front of her, atop a slight slope of snow-covered lawn, stood the old white Victorian house in which she’d grown up. Her heart warmed at the sight of the wide front porch where she’d spent many summer nights in deep conversations with her family and friends. The rocking chairs were missing, probably in storage for the winter. And the shutters needed a fresh coat of paint. But the Christmas wreath was hanging on the door. She smiled. A good sign.

Conflicting emotions flooded her soul. Joy. Fear. Guilt. All contended for the upper hand.

“Mommy, it’s snowing. Can we build a snowman?”

Jody smiled. “Maybe tomorrow, darling. Today, we have something very important to do.”

Micah shot back. “What’s more important than building a snowman?”

“Meeting your grandma and your grandpa.”

Jody took a twin in each hand. With trembling heart, she led them up the sidewalk and climbed the five concrete steps leading to the front porch of her childhood home. She drew in a long, deep breath.

The time had come to face her destiny.

 

****

 

Sonia put the finishing touches on the German chocolate cake she’d baked for Christmas Eve dinner. If Ben didn’t want to join her, she’d take the cake to old Miss Hattie, a shut-in who lived next door, and share it with her.

As Christmas carols played softly in the background, Sonia sang along with Silver Bells, hoping to put herself in the Christmas spirit. A ring of what sounded like the doorbell interrupted her. No. It must be the sound of bells on the CD. It sounded again, but she ignored it a second time. But when the ring sounded a third time, she turned off the CD to listen. Yes, it was the doorbell.

She carefully put down the frosting-laden spatula and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. Then she hurried to answer the front door. Probably the mail carrier or the FedEx man. Who else could it be? She wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not on Christmas Eve.

She reached for the door knob and opened the door. Her heart froze at the sight before her.

 

****

 

At the sight of her mother, Jody burst into tears. “Mom, I’m home.”

Time stopped as Jody searched her mother’s face. Obviously stunned, Mom seemed to be trying to make sense of it all.

Her mother stared at her. “Dear God! Can it be? Can it truly be?”

In that split second between stimulus and response, Jody lived a terrifying eternity. Was her mother angry or elated? Would she accept her or reject her? What would she do next?

The answers came swiftly as Sonia reached out and threw her arms around her daughter, nearly crushing her with torrents of love too long unexpressed. “Jody. My precious Jody. I can’t believe you’re really here.”

Tears streamed down her mother’s face and mingled with her own. Jody’s heart burst into fireworks of unbounded joy. “Oh, Mom. I was so afraid you would turn me away.”

“Turn you away. Never. I’ve been praying for you and waiting for you all of these years.”

Basking in her mother’s welcoming embrace, Jody almost forgot the twins. She turned toward them. “Mom, I want you to meet your grandchildren.”

Sonia stooped down. “How beautiful! Oh, my. They’re twins, aren’t they?” She drew Micah and Greta into a warm embrace. “I’m your grandma. I’m so happy to meet you.”

The twins allowed their grandmother to cuddle them.

Jody rested a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “I’ve told them all about you.”

Ben’s voice boomed at the doorway. “What’s going on? What’s all the commotion?”

Sonia rose to her feet. “Ben, Jody’s home. It’s a Christmas miracle.”

Jody winced under Ben’s icy stare. A sense of grave foreboding overshadowed her.

He scowled. “How dare you come back?” He spat the words. “Who do you think you are intruding into our lives? Haven’t you done enough damage?”

Jody swallowed a sob. “Mom, I think we’d better go.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Sonia urged them to come inside, but Ben blocked the doorway. “Ben, please. Let your sister and her children come inside.”

Jody shuddered. Was this her doing? Had her selfish disappearance driven kindhearted Ben to cruelty? How could she ask for acceptance when she herself had rejected Ben and her entire family?

Ben refused to move. “This isn’t her house. She can go find another place to live.”

Sonia took her son’s arm. “Ben, this is no way to treat your sister. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

He snarled. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Greta began to cry. “Mommy, I want to go home. I don’t like it here.”

If Ben wouldn’t have her, Jody would take her children and leave. But first she had to see her father. “Where’s Dad?”

“Where’s Dad?” Ben exploded. “He’s dead, that’s where. You killed Dad, Jody. Are you happy now?”

A nuclear missile struck Jody’s heart, annihilating it. A wrenching sob erupted in her soul, skyrocketed to her throat, and lodged there. She gasped for air, leaned against the doorjamb, then slid to the floor as her world evaporated into nothingness.

 

****

 

Sonia reached for Jody just as her daughter’s limp body slid to the floor. “Ben, quick. Help me get Jody and the children inside. Then go get me a damp cloth from the kitchen.”

To her surprise, Ben obeyed her request. He took the twins by the hand and, after closing the front door, led them into the nearby living room. Then he helped Sonia lift Jody from the floor and place her on the couch. He headed to the kitchen and returned with a moistened paper towel that he handed to his mother.

“Thanks, Ben.” Sonia’s heart warmed. Maybe there was still hope for her son after all.

“Thanks, nothing. I’m outa here.” He stormed past her.

“Ben! Please don’t go. It’s Christmas Eve.”

But his only reply was the slam of the front door.

 

****

 

The twins cried and tugged on Jody until she came to. Her mother’s worried face blurred before her. Ben was not there.

“Mom.” Jody raised her head slightly then fell backward again onto the sofa.

Ben’s words thundered in her soul. You killed Dad! You killed Dad! You killed Dad!

The haunting accusation sliced into her, siphoning her very breath. She buried her face in her hands. The wrenching sobs came rushing from a place of raw pain where guilt, shame, and remorse had built their strongholds.

“Mom, I’m so sorry.” A sob caught in Jody’s throat.

Greta buried her head in Jody’s chest. “Don’t cry, Mommy.”

If only she’d come home sooner. If only she’d called her dad to tell him where she was.

To ask his forgiveness.

If only she’d never left.

Memories of her father flooded her mind. The father she’d never again get to talk to, to laugh with, to hug.

Her mother brushed loose strands of hair from Jody’s face. “It’s all right, honey. Everything is going to be all right.”

“But Dad?” The sob lodged in her throat now broke loose in a wail of anguish. “Dad. Dad. Dad. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to kill you.”

“Jody, stop.” Her mother’s voice was firm. “You did not kill your father. That’s a lie.”

“But Ben said—”

“Your brother is a bitter young man who will have to deal with his anger. Your job is to raise these precious children.” She patted Greta’s and Micah’s blond heads. “My grandchildren.”

The children. Yes, she had to get a hold of herself for the children. “More than anything, I want Micah and Greta to know you.”

Her mother smiled. “Well, now that you’re home, we’ll work on that, won’t we?”

“But I can’t stay here. Ben won’t have us.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Last I heard this house belongs to me, not Ben. So I’m the one who gives the orders around here.”

But after her brother’s tirade, Jody worried that Ben would never see it that way.

 

****

 

Sonia served the chocolate cake she’d baked for Christmas Eve dinner. She’d had no idea earlier that day she’d been baking the cake for Jody and her grandchildren. Life was certainly filled with surprises.

And heartache, too. Ben had not returned.

Would her life always be bittersweet? Would she always have one child home and the other AWOL? She resolved to be thankful for what she had and to pray for Ben.

While Jody bathed the children, Sonia sought the refuge of her fellowship chair. The shocking return of her daughter, and with two grandchildren in tow, had left her shaken, conflicted, yet rejoicing. She could not have received a better Christmas gift. The long years of interceding, of crying out to God for Jody’s safety, of believing God for Jody’s return had finally ended. Now her daughter was safe under her roof, and life could go on as before.

Or could it?

Sonia had reconciled with one child but was still at odds with the other. Ben’s cruel accusation against his sister and then his angry departure despite Sonia’s pleas for him to remain had left Sonia weary and heavy-hearted. His bitterness was driving him to destruction, and she was humanly powerless to stop him.

But personal suffering had taught her that human weakness made the perfect venue for God’s strength. Lord, thank You for bringing Jody home. I am overwhelmed by Your faithfulness. Thank You for my two grandchildren, two precious gifts who have made my Christmas. Thanks most of all for You, Lord. No matter what happens, I will always lean on You.

The sound of little feet on the staircase interrupted Sonia’s thoughts.

Greta ran into the room. “Grandma, do you like my new pajamas?” Greta sported a pair of flannel pajamas with little pink elephants printed all over them.

“Look at mine, too, Grandma.” Micah ran in and stood tall in front of Sonia. His pajamas were like Greta’s except they had blue elephants printed all over them.

“My, my. Don’t you two look like the Bobbsey Twins.”

“Who are the Bobbsey twins, Grandma?”

Sonia laughed. “I should have known better. You’re both too young to remember.” She glanced at Jody who had followed the twins into the room. “I think your mother is too young to remember them, too.”

Greta clasped her hands in front of her and bent over giggling. “Mommy’s old, Grandma.”

Sonia burst out laughing. “Well, if your mommy is old, then I’m ancient.”

Jody gathered her little brood by the shoulders. “It’s time for you two to go to bed. Give Grandma a kiss goodnight.”

The two dutifully kissed Sonia then followed Jody back up the stairs. Sonia’s heart followed close behind. They would sleep in Jody’s room tonight, the room Sonia had never touched, except for cleaning it, since Jody disappeared.

 

****

 

Once the children were tucked in and sound asleep, Jody went downstairs to join her mother.

Sonia was in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher. “Would you like a cup of peppermint tea?”

“That sounds really good.” Jody pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and watched her mother prepare the tea. She hadn’t changed much, except for the gray hair that now framed her temples and the few crow’s feet around her eyes. But there was something about her—an inner something—that was different. Jody couldn’t put her finger on it. The best way to describe it was that her mother now possessed a depth she didn’t have before. A depth forged by suffering. A strength acquired by deep pain.

She smiled as Mom placed the cup of tea in front of her.

“Be careful. It’s very hot.”

“Thanks.” Jody reached for the sugar bowl, removed two lumps of sugar, and dropped them into her tea. She watched the sugar dissolve in the hot liquid. Then she added a few drops of cream from the small white pitcher and stirred it with a teaspoon. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to talk about. But where to begin? She’d take her cue from her mother whose eyes were fixed on hers.

“I can’t believe you’re sitting there enjoying a cup of tea with me. This is all so surreal. I feel as though I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

Tears sprang to Jody’s eyes as she reached over to squeeze her mother’s hand. “You’re not dreaming, Mom. I’m really here. It seems like a dream to me, too.”

“It’s an answer to prayer if I ever saw one.”

Jody felt the squaring of her mother’s gaze upon her.

“What made you leave?”

Jody’s muscles tensed. She knew the question would come sooner or later, but she wasn’t prepared for sooner. She stared down into her tea. The knot in her stomach tightened. The ache of remorse cut deeper into her soul. “I guess I just needed to get away from the pressure. The hopelessness. The feelings of failure.” She shook her head then looked straight at her mother. “I don’t really know why I left, Mom.” She swallowed hard, blinking back hot tears. “All I know is that I’m so, so sorry I did.”

 

****

 

Sonia studied Jody’s face, sensing her daughter’s genuine remorse. Yet, despite Jody’s repentance, and despite her own decision to forgive, Sonia still wrestled with deep-seated pockets of anger—those dark, hidden places of her soul that didn’t want to forgive but that wanted instead to punish Jody for hurting them so badly and for causing them so much suffering. How could one forgive that so easily? Yes, Jody was sorry, but that didn’t change the tragic consequences of her selfish actions. Some things just couldn’t be changed no matter how sorry a person was. Sometimes there was no going back to normal.

It wasn’t Jody’s leaving that was the problem. It was her leaving without telling them, without a warning. And then keeping them in the dark for so long about her whereabouts. No phone call. No e-mail. Nothing.

Did Jody ever consider what they were going through? Talk about heartless. How could the daughter for whom she’d given her life do such a thing to her own mother? To her own father and brother?

Heat coursed through Sonia’s veins. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Jody’s actions had left a permanent scar on her. And not only on her, but on Rick and Ben as well. For Rick, it was a scar that eventually led to his death.

The heavy weight of grief threatened to overwhelm her. In a way, Ben was right. Jody had killed her father.

Sonia leaned forward toward Jody. “I’m so sorry you left, too. So very, very sorry.” She wanted to say more but bit her tongue, remembering God’s warning that saying too much would eventually lead to sin. Lord, I give You my pain. In exchange, give Me Your grace and forgiveness for Jody.

Peace settled over Sonia’s soul. She took her daughter’s hand. “Jody, I can’t lie to you and say that your leaving didn’t cause me incredible pain and suffering. I also can’t lie and say that I haven’t wrestled between my longing to see you and my deep anger at what you did. But I can say that I have chosen to forgive you in my heart. Now I’m trusting God to align my emotions with my decision.”

She’d spoken the truth in love. She’d decided to forgive. “We can’t change the past. We can only learn from it. It’s time to move forward.” As she spoke the words in faith, bitterness dissolved into grace.

Tears spilled down Jody’s cheeks. “Mom, I was so afraid you would turn me away.” She wiped her eyes. “But I came back, hoping you wouldn’t.”

Sonia rose and embraced her daughter. “How could I turn you away when our Lord didn’t turn me away? How could I not forgive you, when our Lord forgave me?”

She held her daughter close to her heart. “Welcome home, honey.” Sonia let the tears flow freely. “Welcome home.”

 

****

 

The next morning Jody awakened in her own bedroom. Everything was exactly as she’d left it. Not a thing was out of place. Had her mother expected her to return one day? Or had she not been able to bring herself to convert the room to another use?

Jody’s old guitar still rested on its stand in the corner of the room. The guitar she used to play as a self-conscious fifteen year old too clumsy to play sports. She’d practiced hard and gotten good enough to play in the church worship band. Next to her guitar, in a little green rocking chair beside the dresser, sat her Winnie-the-Pooh teddy bear, a gift from her parents when she was two. Winnie was worn and ragged, but happy, as shown by the perpetual smile on his face.

On the wall above her head still hung the picture of Jesus hugging a group of little children. How often as a child had she looked at that picture and wondered if Jesus would hug her, too? Even the lavender curtains with the frilly yellow trim still hung from the two casement windows that overlooked the backyard. Semi-circles of snow now clung to the corners of the windowpanes, forming graceful arcs that sparkled in the morning sunlight.

Jody sat up in bed. The twins. Where were the twins? She’d been so sound asleep she hadn’t heard them awaken. She crawled out of bed, grabbed her robe from the chair where she’d laid it the night before, and wrapped it around her. Then she hurried down the narrow, carpeted hallway toward the back staircase.

The sound of her mother’s voice floated upward from the kitchen. “Shall we build a snowman today after Christmas dinner?”

Giggles of delight filled the room as the twins clapped their hands in unison. “Yes, Grandma.” Micah’s voice boomed. “Let’s build a snowman.”

“A big, big snowman, Grandma.” Greta voiced her opinion.

The mouth-watering aroma of roasting turkey greeted Jody as she entered the kitchen. “Merry Christmas.”

The children ran toward her and threw their arms around her. “Merry Christmas, Mommy. We’re going to build a snowman with Grandma. Do you want to help us?”

Jody looked at her mother. “Was this their idea or yours?”

Her mother laughed. “A little bit of both. It snowed quite a bit during the night. We have the makings of a magnificent snowman.”

Jody poured herself a cup of coffee. “I can’t believe they awoke before I did.” She pulled up a chair and sat at the table across from her mother. “What time did Ben get back?”

Her mother sighed. “He didn’t.”

Jody’s stomach knotted. “What do you mean? Was he out all night in this weather?”

Her mother took a sip of her coffee. “I’m sure he spent the night with friends. The same friends who have been leading him astray.”

Jody leaned forward. “Mom, what’s going on? What’s been happening around here since I left?”

Sonia called toward the children. “Greta. Micah. Would you like to do some puzzles while Grandma and Mommy talk?”

“No, Grandma. We want to build a snowman.”

“We will but not right now. Mommy and I have to talk first. Then we’ll have Christmas dinner. And then the four of us will go out and build a really big snowman.”

Greta sidled up to her grandmother. “Will that man help us, Grandma?”

“You mean Uncle Ben.” Sonia drew her grandchild close. “If he gets back in time, sweetheart. Now run along and play with the puzzles. I left them for you on the coffee table in the living room.”

Greta took Micah by the hand. “Let’s go, Micah. Let’s go do some puzzles.”

Micah reluctantly followed his sister, leaving Jody and her mother to have a long overdue, heart-to-heart talk.

 

****

 

Sonia prayed a silent prayer for wisdom. She didn’t want to ruin everything by saying something she shouldn’t say or by not saying something she should. She wanted to be completely honest with Jody, but, as the Scriptures commanded, she wanted to speak the truth in love.

She took a deep breath. “After you left, everything fell apart. Your Dad and I were frantic. Neither of us could sleep. When you didn’t come home that first night, we called the police. They told us they couldn’t do anything until you were missing for twenty-four hours, that most missing persons returned home within a day, so a search might not be necessary. You can imagine what that did to your father and me. With the help of neighbors and several people from church, we started searching on our own. We scoured the neighborhood, the park, and every single place we could think of where you might have gone. We called your friends, your teachers, your high school principal. Anyone who might have an inkling of your whereabouts. But no one knew. Not even Sarah your best friend.

Jody lowered her eyes. “I didn’t tell a soul.”

Sonia wiped a tear from her eye and suppressed the old anger rising within her. “After twenty-four hours, the police began an official search. Word about your disappearance was sent to all police departments in the entire state. Eventually, the news stations picked it up not only here in Virginia, but also all across the United States.” Sonia looked at Jody. “I was surprised that we didn’t hear anything from you at that point. I was sure you’d seen the story about your disappearance on the news.”

“By then I was on my way to Australia.”

Sonia widened her eyes. “Australia. That explains the twins’ accents.”

“Yes. That’s where I went right after I left home.”

“But why Australia? Did you know someone there?”

“No. I’d always been fascinated with Australia, ever since I studied about it in junior high school. So I took all my savings and bought a plane ticket.”

Sonia’s mind reeled. “I can’t believe it. Weren’t you afraid?”

Jody lowered her voice. “Foolishness drives out fear. Actually, I was really excited, but it was the excitement of one void of wisdom and common sense.” She looked up. “But go on. I want to hear the rest of the story.”

“Well, after three months, your dad started to give up hope. He spent more and more time alone. He’d take long walks. I’m sure he was out looking for you. He’d come home depressed and forlorn. As the days went by, he became bitter. Withdrawn. Hopeless.” Sonia wiped a tear from her eye.

Jody covered her mother’s hand with hers. “What about you, Mom? Did you ever give up hope?”

A lump rose to Sonia’s throat as she searched Jody’s eyes. “I had horrible days when I was tempted to give up hope, but I never did. I knew you were out there somewhere, and I knew God would bring you back.” Sonia smiled through her tears. “And He did.”

“What about Ben?”

“Ben is so much like your father. He withdrew into himself, too. When not at school, he’d spend most of his time in his room playing video games. Things got tense between him and your dad to the point they were always yelling at each other. I knew they were both worried sick about you but felt so powerless to do anything. If they’d known where to start looking, they would have done anything to find you. But they had no clue where to start.”

“What did you do during all those years?”

All the unspeakable terror and intense anger that Sonia thought were long gone rose again within her and sought expression in punitive, accusatory words. But she silenced them. Yes, she would tell Jody the truth, but she would not use guilt or blame or shame to condemn her. “Mostly I prayed. When panic knocked on my door—as it did nearly every moment of every day, especially those first few years—I refused to open the door. Instead, I opened my Bible. There I found the peace I so desperately needed.”

Jody lowered her eyes. “There’s nothing I can ever say or do to make up for all the anguish I’ve caused you. All I can ask is that you will forgive me.”

Sonia patted her daughter’s hand. “I do forgive you, Jody.”

And in Sonia’s heart, she really meant it.

 

****

 

Jody bowed under an unbearable weight of grief upon hearing the agony her family had endured after her disappearance. Nothing she could do could erase the horrific years of anguish and pain. Worst of all, nothing she could do could bring back her father.

She blinked back stinging tears as remorse wrenched the life out of her heart, leaving it desolate and barren. Were it not for the twins, she would have no reason to live. A feeling of self-loathing filled her. The world would be better without her. But suicide was the coward’s way out. Though she might be many things, a coward she was not.

She followed her mother into the kitchen. Keeping busy would bring distraction from the obsessive, tormenting thoughts that were driving Jody insane.

She sliced the turkey, arranged it on a platter then placed the platter in the center of the old oaken dining room table. The appetizing aroma of rich brown gravy, candied sweet potatoes, and freshly baked cornbread filled the room. “I hope everyone is hungry.”

All the chairs around the table were filled except Ben’s. She’d expected him to calm down after his explosive outburst the day before. Instead, he’d left and had not yet returned.

She resisted the wave of worry that rushed against her with the force of a tsunami. She’d already destroyed her father. She couldn’t handle destroying Ben as well.

“I’m hungry, Mommy.” Greta knelt in her chair, her blonde curls bobbing on both sides of her cherub face.

“We’ll be eating soon, sweetheart. But first we have to wait for Grandma to lead us in thanking the Lord for our food.”

Once seated, Sonia motioned for everyone to join hands. “Let’s pray. Father, we thank You for Christmas. For sending Jesus, Your Son, into the world to save us from our sins. Thank You for this food You have provided for us. And Happy Birthday, Jesus. Amen.”

“Happy Birthday, Jesus!” The twins shouted in unison.

Jody stood and filled Greta’s plate while Sonia took care of Micah’s. Amid the chatter and excitement, the front door opened. Ben stood in the living room. In his hand he held a white envelope.

Jody’s heart leapt. “Ben, you’re just in time for dinner.”

“Merry Christmas.” His voice was quiet and subdued.

Micah slid off his chair and ran toward Ben. “Do you want to build a snowman with us?”

Ben smiled and tousled Micah’s hair. “Sure. But first I have something for your mommy.”

Greta piped up. “Is it a Christmas present?”

He smiled again. “I would say so.”

Greta clapped her hands. “Do you have a Christmas present for me, too?”

“I sure do. But you’ll get yours after we build our snowman.”

“OK.”

He walked toward Jody seated at the table. “This is for you. From Dad. Right before he died he made me promise that if you ever came back home, I was to give it to you. It’s been in the safe in the attic all these years.”

Jody’s heart pounded wildly as she took the long white envelope from Ben’s extended hand. Across its front, her father had written her name. Jody. It was in the same unique, masculine cursive style that he’d used to sign her homework when she was a child. She held the envelope for a long moment, holding her breath at the same time. While part of her wanted so badly to know what was inside, another part of her just as badly dreaded finding out.

Her hand trembled as she carefully tore open the sealed flap. All eyes were on her as she gently drew the sheet of paper out of the envelope.

Greta got up from her chair and stood by Jody. “Is it a picture, Mommy? A picture from Grandpa. Did he draw it for you?”

Time stood still as Jody unfolded the single sheet of paper. She held it in both hands, awaiting the verdict of her past in the case of her future.

She began to read aloud:

Dear Jody,

As I write this letter, I am close to leaving this world. The doctors have told me that I have only a few days to live. It is likely that I will not see you again before I depart this earth, but I want you to know that I do not depart with anger or bitterness toward you but only with heartfelt forgiveness and immense, unending, and unconditional love. Love like the love our Savior has for all of us. The love I have accepted from His gracious hand.

When you first went missing, I thought you would return soon. But when days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years, I began to lose hope. Yes, I experienced tormenting fear, deep anger, and consuming bitterness. But I finally realized the futility and ultimate harm of such attitudes. So I chose to forgive you and to place you wholly in God’s hands. At that moment, I received His peace, and I knew that, wherever you are, He will take care of you.

I ask you to forgive me for failing so often to be the father you needed me to be. Hindsight reveals many things that foresight conceals.

How I would love to see you again before I die. But if that does not happen, I will see you again in heaven. Meanwhile, I give you my blessing. May our Lord watch over you all the days of your life. May He bless you and any children He may give you. And may you never forget that you will always be your “Daddy’s precious little girl.”

I love you!

Dad

Jody’s shoulders shook as hot tears flowed profusely. She looked at Ben. His eyes were red from crying, too. At the end of the table, her mother wept openly.

Micah raised both arms, as if to take charge of the situation. “Why is everybody crying?”

Jody laughed through her tears. “Because God has given Mommy the best Christmas gift ever.”

Greta looked up at her. “What’s that, Mommy?”

Jody took a deep breath. “The gift of grace.”

 

****

 

Amid shouts of laughter, Jody helped her children, her mother, and Ben put the finishing touches on their newly built snowman. She turned toward Micah and Greta. “What shall we name him?”

Greta wrapped her arms around Ben’s right leg. “You pick a name, Uncle Ben.”

Micah followed suit. “Yes. You pick a name, Uncle Ben.”

Ben looked at Jody. “Let’s let mommy pick a name.”

Jody’s throat swelled. “We’ll name him Rick, after Grandpa Rick.”

The children jumped up and down and clapped their hands. Then, standing on either side of the snowman, they wrapped their arms around him. “Merry Christmas, Rick the Snowman.”

Jody wrapped her arms around the snowman, too. Soon all of them were hugging Rick the Snowman. Joy surged through Jody’s heart. They were a family again. A real family. Not perfect, but real.

Sure, they still needed healing, but now that they’d chosen the road of forgiveness, they were well on their way to becoming whole.

 

****

 

That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Sonia sat in her fellowship chair. What a Christmas! Deep joy and gratitude washed over her as she rehearsed the amazing events of the day. A day she’d never forget as long as she lived.

Rick’s letter had reminded her of the true meaning of Christmas. She hadn’t known about the letter, but she was so thankful for it. Rick knew his son. In a man-to-man exchange, he’d given the letter only to Ben, understanding that Ben would need this catalyst to make him face Jody. In His wisdom, God had seen fit to use Ben to deliver it. A delivery destined to bring healing between sister and brother.

And healing to her, too. Not only did Christmas commemorate God’s gift of grace to humanity, but from now on it would also commemorate Rick’s gift of grace to her and her children. And it would commemorate her own gift of grace toward those who’d caused her pain. “Father, forgive me my debts, as I forgive my debtors.” The words of the Lord’s Prayer now held new meaning for her. Or perhaps she now understood their meaning for the first time.

Sonia closed her tear-filled eyes. “Thank You, Lord, not only for bringing Jody home, but for bringing me home as well.”