She lowered her body into one of the visitor’s chairs. Page by page, she flipped through, her heart breaking with each name and list she read. She’d gone to school with many of these parents, had grown up with them and had sleepovers and birthday parties with them.
A fundamental shift occurred in her. Her mission went beyond saving Noel to a goal even more personal. She’d bring Christmas to these people who weren’t just citizens of a town. They were a part of her life that helped weave the story of her childhood and early adult years. They’d been there for her when Dad passed, had reached out to her when she’d returned to New York.
The force of the memories flooding her pinned her against the chair. How could she complain that no one told her anything? They’d tried to stay in her life, butshehad pushed them away, hadn’t responded to their letters or calls.
That stopped now.
“Do you have a notepad and calculator I can use?”
“Here’s a notepad and pen.” He rummaged in a drawer. “And here’s a calculator.”
“Thanks.” She scooted the chair forward until she could use the desk to write on.
More slowly this time, she went through each application and wrote an approximate cost to complete each wish list. She tallied the total and cringed.
So close.
“Goodbye cruise,” she muttered.
“What was that?”
For a second, she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone. “Nothing.”
Derek raised a brow. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Bren?”
“I’m figuring out a way to fill all the lists.” She finished adding the numbers a second time and came up with the same total. Even allowing for a margin of error, she couldn’t possibly buy every item on her own. “If I take a toy off a few lists, I can cover them all, but how do I know which one they want the most?”
“Nobody would expect you to take on that expense.” Derek tried to be discreet in looking at her list, but she saw his neck move slightly. “And the lists are only suggestions. The kids will be grateful for anything they receive.”
“I want to do this.” She laid the pen aside and leaned back in the chair. “It’s not about the gifts, not exactly.”
“Then what?” He stared at her as though he knew where she’d go, but wanted to hear it from her.
“I know Christmas isn’t about the gifts. It’s about celebrating the birth of the long-awaited Savior.”
“Jesus is the reason for the season.” Derek smiled briefly. “But it’s said so often that we start to tune out the significance of it.”
“When life gets busy it’s easy to lose sight of the true meaning of Christmas. To be honest, that’s how I’ve been the last four or five years.”
“Something changed just now, didn’t it?”
“As I read through each of those applications, I saw families who needed hope, who need to know someone cares.” She rubbed her fingers against each other, hesitating to continue. Would he think her insight was off or idealistic? “Jesus’s sacrificial death on the cross was the ultimate act of kindness that gave all mankind hope.”
He leaned forward, gazing at her intently. “And in a similar way, you want to bring hope by gifting these families.”
“Does that sound arrogant? Any act I could perform would pale miserably in comparison to what Christ did for us, but in the best way I know how I want to imitate His love.” She held her breath, watched for his reaction.
A slow, humble smile crept onto his face. “I’ve always admired you, but never more so than now.”
“It’s not about me. Canceling my cruise is the least I can do to spread love this Christmas.” She swallowed the ball of emotion in her throat. “I should never have ignored my home for this long.”
“Can I see your estimates?”
She slid them across his desk. “They aren’t perfect since I don’t know the going rate of most toys, but I believe it’s a reasonable estimate.”
He lifted the tally sheet and let out a low whistle. “This is a lot of money. I can’t ask you to spend that much.”
“You didn’t ask, I offered.” She crossed her arms, ready to battle in defiance.
