Miriam sighed.

As she made her way through the snow-sprinkled neighborhood, she knew that this Christmas was going to be horrible. Her dad had lost his job over a year ago, and her mom couldn’t work because she was sick. Her medical bills left not even an extra penny for gifts for Miriam or her brother, Sam.

What kind of family doesn’t have presents on Christmas? Miriam thought silently. All of the kids she knew were going to wake up on Christmas morning; their faces all aglow with joy at the vast amount of gifts piled around their Christmas tree. Candy, brand new dirt bikes, warm sweaters of the latest fashion, and, best of all, the love of their family would surround them. Jealousy grew inside Miriam, but she knew it would do her no good to envy her classmates. Christmas was going to be the same no matter what she wished for – her mother would still be dying of cancer, her father would still be brokenhearted, and her younger brother Sam would still ask her, “Is daddy ever going to smile again? Mommy’s going to get better, isn’t she?” And Miriam would smile sadly, trying to hold back the tears in her eyes while saying, “Someday, Sammy. Someday mommy will be better.”

Miriam knew that her mother wasn’t going to get better, but she would rather die than tell Sammy that. She prayed, and hoped, and waited for God to do something. Her dad had always told her, “If you ask God, he will answer. Just believe and have faith, Miriam.” When they’d found out about her mother’s cancer, the whole family had prayed that she might be healed. At first, everyone was hopeful that things would change – that Mom would get better, that things would turn around, that everything would be good again. It’d been nearly two years, though. Even Miriam’s father, who was stronger in his faith than anyone she knew, was beginning to lose hope. Her mom’s illness was taking up his time, and he had lost his job because of it. They were in danger of losing their house, now, too because Dad couldn’t make the payments. Things kept getting worse.

Miriam kicked the white powdered snow. Miriam felt like the snow, flying everywhere because some greater power had kicked her life into a million pieces. It was getting colder, and she knew she had to get home soon. Her dad would be worried, and the last thing he needed was more worry. Miriam turned around and began walking through the icy wind back to her house.

As she made her way through the front door, Miriam could sense that something was different. There was a silent, cold atmosphere in the air. She shut the door quietly behind her, looking for the rest of her family. She could hear the cold sniffles of her baby brother, and it sounded like someone was crying. Finally, her father came into view. The crying noises had come from him.

“Oh, Daddy… is Momma okay?” Miriam cried, now letting her sobs flow freely.

“Oh, sweetie… it’s not what you think… I’m crying because I’m happy, really!” her dad replied, trying to manage a smile through his tears. He tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, but he began to hiccup and Miriam laughed.

“Daddy, if Mom’s okay, then why are you crying?” Miriam asked, trying to figure out what could possibly be going on.

“Well, sweetie,” her dad began, “Yesterday, I was going to make lunch for your mom. I opened up the pantry door, and there was only one can of chicken noodle soup left. I cooked it for her, and fed her as much as she could eat, and then I watched her fall asleep.”

“I finished the soup for my lunch, and then vowed to go shopping again later. Well, I didn’t. Your mother asked me to read to her, and I got caught up in the housework, and, well, I didn’t have time. Then I had to pay the hospital bill, so I had no money to buy food anyways.”

“Daddy, how does this make you happy?” Miriam asked, still completely confused.

“Just a little while ago, your mom asked me to make her a little something for lunch. Naturally, I remembered how I had forgotten to go shopping, and dreaded having to tell her that we had no food and I had no money. Something told me to check the cupboard anyways. You know what they say, ‘God will provide.’ I have to admit, though, I wasn’t expecting a darn thing when I opened up that cupboard door.”

“I opened up the cupboard, expecting disappointment, and instead I found a can of chicken noodle soup!”

Miriam sat back, listening closely.

“I thought, well, maybe there was an extra can that I missed yesterday. I shook it off, and made the soup for your mother. When I walked into her room, she looked up at me, smiled, and said, ‘Everything is going to be okay.’”

“I looked at your mom, and my heart broke. She couldn’t possibly know that we had no money and no food. But she looked me straight in the eyes and said, ‘Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay. God loved us enough to provide us with a beautiful marriage, beautiful children, and a beautiful hope. Do you think He would forget us now?’” Her father began to cry again.

Miriam’s wonder grew. For weeks, all she had been able to think about was how rotten Christmas was going to be and how rotten life was. Yet, in the midst of her selfish thoughts, God had not forgotten her, and he never would. This is what Christmas is really about, she thought. It’s not about the selfish gifts we want. It’s about God’s gifts to us.

Miriam tightly hugged her father. Maybe Christmas wasn’t going to be so bad, after all.

© Katie Fahey 2004.