The doorbell rang.
Bosco and Banjo the family’s two dogs tore from the living room. Bosco hit the scatter rug, landed on his rump and slid into position in front of the door, where Banjo joined him a few seconds later, both dogs barking furiously.
Janet shouted over the noise of the television, children and barking dogs “Eric, can you get the door?”
The doorbell rang again. Janet took a deep, calming, cleansing breath, raised her voice an octave and shouted again “Eric! My hands are covered in flour, can you please get the door!”
This time her words rang out as a command rather than a request.
The doorbell rang one more time. Janet rolled her eyes and reached for a towel. The last thing she wanted to deal with today was another donation seeker.
Already stretched to her budget’s limits, she prayed the cause would be frivolous, ensuring no guilt when she said, “I’m sorry it’s not in our budget this month.”
With Eric’s unemployment running out and no jobs to be found Christmas was going to be difficult enough this year.
The doorbell rang again, and Janet snatched the door open, the words “Good grief” dying on her lips at the sight which greeted her.
“Merry Christmas ma’am” the man from the local fire department, dressed liked Santa thrust a basket filled with wrapped gifts into her hands.
Another basket filled with food, was set at her feet, “Christmas blessings to you and yours” said a woman dressed like Mrs. Clause.
Janet stared stunned, at the crowd of Carolers gathered at her front door. She lifted her eyes to heaven, found and focused on the Christmas Star.
Two tears rolled down her cheeks, and as the Carolers burst into “Joy To The World,” snow began to fall.
(After reading a post at Gone For A Walk, I checked out Write On The Edge [I really do learn so much from all of you!] and decided to try my hand at one of their writing prompts. I can’t wait to hear what you think.)
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