The Christmas Letter

Sally curled her fingers around the thick crayon, her tongue slipped through her lips in abject concentration. The letters must be formed just right. All the words must be straight, for this was the most important letter she would ever write.

Carly dried the last of the dishes as she watched her little girl bent low over her paper.

"Jotting down the things you want for Christmas?" Sally nodded, but didn’t look up from her task.

A key turned in the lock and Daddy stumbled through the door.

Sally wrote faster.

She wrote through the yelling, through the crying, through the slamming of the door as Daddy left again. When she had finished, she carefully folded the letter and put it into an envelope and addressed it…To Jesus.

"Mama?” she said, “Can we go to the mall tomorrow?"

Carly looked at her beautiful child through red and swollen eyes. “You want to see Santa? To give him your list?"

Sally shook her head, “No, Santa only brings toys. I want to see Jesus for Christmas this year. Since Christmas is Jesus' birthday, he'll be at the mall, too. Right?"

Carly looked at her little girl - her spirit so strong and her body so frail. If the doctors were right, Sally would indeed see Jesus for Christmas this year. “Let’s get you back to bed, Sweet Pea. I’ll hold your letter until morning."

When Jessie came back home that night, Carly was waiting for him, holding Sally’s letter “You have to read this,” she said." Jessie read through whiskey blurred eyes what his little girl had written.

Dear Jesus,
 Please make my mommy and daddy love each other again.
Your friend,
Sally

Husband and wife cried together that night and promised to work things out. Promised to allow God to mend their marriage and promised to seek Jesus for the answer to their little girl’s Christmas wish.

On Christmas morning, Sally looked up into St. Peter’s eyes. “Is this the line to see Jesus?” she asked.

"You don’t need to stand in line, Sally,” said St. Peter, “Jesus is waiting for you."

She turned to see the Friend Of Children waiting to take her in. She ran into his arms and buried her face in his chest. “Did you get my letter?” she asked.

“Yes, child,” he said “and your wish has been granted“

Thank you, Jesus,” she reached her hand up and patted his face, “and Merry Christmas.”

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(Copyright© 2012 Jan Christiansen. All rights reserved.)

5 comments:

Leola Ogle said...

Sweet! sniffle

Janice Rowe said...

Oh my, you weren't kidding. Have to share this one!

Jan Christiansen said...

Hugs to you both!

RebeccaAarup said...

That made me cry! I guess that's the mark of good writing, right? Writing that brings out emotion. Love it. I doubt my writing all the time, I think it's par for the course. I've finally come to a place where I've stopped caring what people think or the rules of writing. I just write what God puts on my heart and ask that He use it for His purpose in some way, even if that's only in my life and no one else ever reads it or cares. So much freedom in that!

Jan Christiansen said...

Thank you Rebecca, for reminding me that we should be writing for an audience of One and trust Him to do with it what He will.

Blessings,
Jan