One Imperfect Christmas

by Myra Johnson

“I think I get it.” A pleasant warmth spread under Lissa's heart. “Family should mean we don't ever have to wonder if we're good enough or if we're forgiven. Our family loves us no matter what.”

  She paused, a hitch in her breath. “Mom, does this mean … ” She almost couldn't get the words out. “Does this mean you and Dad will try to work things out?”

  “I hope— “

  Before her mother could finish her answer, a knock sounded on the closed living-room door. Uncle Hart's voice came from the other side. “Hey, you two, I don't know what kind of Christmas surprise you're cooking up, but dinner's on the table. Better come now or we'll start without you.”

  “Goodness, I lost all track of time.” Lissa's mother started for the door, then glanced over her shoulder with a conspiratorial grin. “Not a word to anyone about the star, okay?”

  Lissa gave a firm nod, another rush of pride swelling her heart. As she rose from the ottoman, her toe caught on something propped against the side of the chair. When she bent down to see what she'd hit, her gaze fell on the most amazing oil portrait she had ever seen.

  “Oh!” The image of her family so marvelously interconnected filled her with new hope. She lifted her eyes heavenward. “Thank you, Jesus, thank you!”

  Natalie sighed with contentment and folded her napkin beside her empty plate. The sight of her family gathered together sent a shiver of delight through her limbs.

  Daniel raised his glass of sparkling cider. “A toast to the chef.”

  “Hear, hear!” chimed the family.

  Natalie smiled her thanks, not trusting herself to speak.

  “And that was the best pumpkin pie I ever tasted.” Hart leaned sideways to give his wife a hug.

  Celia poked his ribs. “You mash a mean potato, yourself, Dr. Morgan.”

  “Why, thank you, ma'am.” He pushed his chair away from the table and patted his full stomach.

  Natalie glanced down the table at her father. He had eaten his Christmas dinner in silence, occasionally looking toward the empty chair at the opposite end where Mom should have been. At Natalie's suggestion they had set an empty place in honor of Belinda Morgan. Throughout the meal it had been a comforting yet poignant reminder of the special joy she always took in this holiday.

  “Well,” Hart began, “time to make use of my only other culinary talent—doing the dishes.” He started to rise.

  “Dishes can wait,” Natalie said. “Dad, what would you say about us moving the rest of our Christmas celebration to Mom's room?” She stood and reached for his hand, a flutter of excitement tickling her insides.

  It took him a moment to draw his gaze from Mom's empty chair and focus on Natalie. He looked up at her and smiled. “I think she'd like that.”

  “Everyone come help.” Natalie's glance took in the whole family as she gave her father's hand a tug. She led them into the living room and started gathering up the gifts from under the tree. “Kevin and Kurt, would you take Joseph, Mary, and Baby Jesus from the nativity scene and set them on the dresser in Grandma's room? And Lissa,” she added with a wink, “you can carry the backdrop.”

  Balancing an armful of gifts, she nodded to Celia to collect a few more. “Dad, Hart, and Daniel, maybe you could grab some extra chairs.”

  Before long, the guest room hummed with Christmas cheer. Natalie assured Carolyn they would keep their celebration low-key, but watching them arrange the gifts and nativity scene had already brought an unmistakable sparkle to Mom's eyes. The tilt of her lopsided smile made Natalie's heart sing.

  When everyone had gathered, including Sky, the huge Great Dane, Natalie crossed to the dresser and adjusted the star-studded backdrop, making sure to center it just so behind the ceramic figurines of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus.

  “Remember how Mom would get up before dawn to paint the star each Christmas morning?” She paused as she situated herself on the foot of her mother's bed. Admiring the starry scene through misty eyes, she went on, “When I was a kid, the first thing I'd do—even before looking for my presents under the tree—was to see if I could pick out the newest star.”

  Hart gave a soft laugh. “Yeah, me too. It used to be a competition to see which one of us would find it first.”

  “Think you can spot the new star today?” Natalie glanced at Lissa and winked.

  “What—how—” Hart's brow furrowed as he looked from Natalie to their mother to the painting.

  “I see it,” Dad said, his voice barely audible. He lifted a hand and pointed. “There, the yellowish one near the center.”

  Hart moved closer and grinned appreciatively. Hoarsely he said, “Nice work, Rosy.”

  “Actually, Lissa painted the star. I didn't think Mom would mind passing the torch this year.” She angled her mother a smile and glimpsed a grateful tear sliding down the wrinkled cheek.

  No more words were spoken. None were needed. Stiffly, Natalie's father rose and moved his chair next to the scrawny Christmas tree and the pile of gifts in front of the dresser. Following his usual custom, he selected gifts one by one, read the tag, and handed the gift to the recipient. They took turns opening their presents and expressing thanks, and when all the packages were unwrapped, Natalie stood to begin the task of gathering up the torn paper and bows.

  “Hang on, sis.” Hart rose and nudged her back to her place on the end of the bed. “Everybody stay put. I'll be right back.”

  Kevin rubbed his hands together and elbowed Kurt. “I knew there had to be more presents. Santa forgot our new iPhones.”

  “In your dreams, boys.” Celia tousled her nearest son's hair.

  Before Natalie could ask if her father knew what Hart was up to, he returned with a small gold-wrapped box and a tall red Christmas bag. He set the packages at Dad's feet. “These are from Mom. She had me hide them in the clinic storage room nearly a year ago, and the secret's been burning a hole in my brain.”

  “What in the world?” Dad spread open the top of the bag to peer inside.

  “Wait, I think you're supposed to open the little box first.” Hart grinned at Mom, leaned over, and folded his arms across the back of Dad's chair.

  Natalie's heart gave a thud. Her mother had been one busy lady before the stroke. Once again, Natalie wondered if Mom had suspected she wasn't well, but this time the thought made her cherish her mother's stubborn determination even more. And she realized something else, that perhaps in her mother's desperate attempt to speak two days ago, she had also been asking forgiveness for herself.

  Dad balanced the gold box on one thigh and fiddled with the red-and-gold metallic ribbon until it fell away. When he lifted the lid, Natalie could just see the top of a Christmas ornament nestled in a soft bed of sparkly tissue paper. Her father crooked his work-roughened fingers around the tiny metal hook and lifted out the ornament. As it caught the twinkling tree lights, a collective sigh filled the quiet room.

  Happy Golden Christmas, read the finely painted white script. A shiny gold background shone through the hand-painted lacy filigree decorating the rest of the ornament.

  Dad made a choking sound, part laughter and part tears. Natalie hurried to his side and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Daddy, it's beautiful.”

  “There's one more gift.” Hart patted his father's shoulder. “Open the bag, Dad.”

  While Dad reached inside the bag, Natalie took the ornament and found a prominent spot for it on the little Christmas tree. She turned in time to see tissue-paper wrapping fall away from another poignant painting—Mom and Dad, just as they appeared forty-nine years ago in their wedding photograph.

  Daniel came and stood beside her, his hand creeping into hers. “I never realized how much you resemble your mother.”

  Her throat hurt too much to speak. She could only lean into him with a happy shiver.

  The Christmas music playing on the living-room stereo faded to silence. Dad stood and lovingly set the wedding portrait in his chair. Moisture seeping from his eyes, he paused to admire the painting and then bent
over the bed to give his wife a long, sweet kiss. “Thank you, my sweet Belinda, thank you.” Straightening, he draped his arm around Natalie's other side and cast her a grateful smile. “And thank you, too, Rosy-girl. You made this a day we'll all cherish forever.”

  Snuggled between the two men she loved most in this world, Natalie wished time would stop. She stretched up to kiss her father's crinkly cheek. “It's Mom who made this a day to remember. She really outdid herself this Christmas, didn't she?”

  “In spite of everything.” Dad pressed his head to Natalie's. Releasing her, he returned to the bed to stroke his wife's face. Adoring eyes beamed up at him. “I reckon it's about time for evening chores, darlin'. You rest easy for a bit, and I'll sit and read to you soon as I'm done.”

  “I'll help with the horses, Granddad.” Lissa hurried to follow her grandfather out, Sky trotting behind. “Back soon, Grandma.”

  Hart, Celia, and the boys went to the kitchen to begin the cleanup there, while Daniel stayed behind to help Natalie restore order to her mother's room. While she gathered the opened gifts, Daniel started carrying out the extra chairs. She caught up with him in the living room as he returned one of the straight-backed chairs to its place beside the library table.

  He stooped to reach behind the easy chair where Natalie had been sitting earlier with her father. “What's this?”

  Natalie glanced over to see him retrieve the portrait her mother had painted of them. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched Daniel's eyes grow wide. His lips parted in an awestruck grin.

  “This is beautiful,” he breathed. “I thought the painting of your mom and dad was awesome. But this one's absolutely incredible. Why didn't you show it to me sooner?”

  “Dad brought it to me early this morning. Then everything got so busy with church and dinner and all, I didn't think about it again.” She timidly stepped closer, admiring the painting over his shoulder. Her glance fell to Daniel's extended arms, the cuffs of his white dress shirt rolled up. She noticed for the first time that he still wore his wedding band, and she self-consciously touched the naked ring finger of her left hand.

  “Did you notice?” she asked softly, brushing her shoulder against his. “We haven't argued once today.”

  “Yeah. It's been nice.” As natural as breathing he slid his arm around her and drew her close, his cheek pressing against her hair.

  “I can't make any promises,” she whispered, thinking of all the hurt that had passed between them, thinking of her mother and father and fifty years of time-tested love. She knew Mom and Dad had their share of rocky times, too, and loud, lengthy quarrels that sent Natalie and Hart scurrying for cover in the barn. But somehow their love had survived, even flourished. What's their secret? Natalie wondered, even as her own arm curled around Daniel's waist, feeling its tautness and warmth.

  “I don't have to take that job,” Daniel began. “We could wait and see—”

  “Not now.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “Just hold me.”

  Forgive yourself. Forgive each other. Her mother's voice rang through her thoughts, the message now crystal-clear. Nobody's perfect—only God. And he's the best forgiver of all.

  She tilted her head to gaze into Daniel's eyes, and the love reflected there rocked her to the core. His strong arm supported her, and moments later she found herself locked securely in both his arms.

  And loving every minute of it.

  “I love you, Natalie,” he whispered as his lips brushed hers.

  “I love you too. I always will,” she answered, and welcomed the warm, lingering kiss.

  Belinda Morgan let her gaze drift around the now quiet room. Fifty perfect Christmases. Maybe not perfect by the world's standards—was anything this side of heaven? How many times had she overcooked the turkey or purchased a gift the wrong size or color? How many Christmases were interrupted by an ice storm or a horse with colic? How many holidays had been marred by family squabbles, the flu, unexpected repair bills, or just someone's bad mood?

  But today, surrounded by her family, witnessing the joy in her husband's eyes as he held their special “Golden Christmas” ornament, seeing Natalie smiling and once again in Daniel's arms where she belonged, Hart and his family …

  She wriggled her head deeper into the billowy softness of her pillow and closed her eyes. Thank you, Jesus. Happy birthday and Merry Christmas.

  Discussion Question

  Natalie Pearce is the central character in. How would you describe Natalie to a friend? What are her most notable strengths and weaknesses? In what ways do you identify with Natalie? How are you different?

  Natalie's mother always made Christmas an extra-special time of year for the family. In what ways do you think such traditions helped shape Natalie's character and values? What is your favorite Christmas memory? Do you have special family traditions?

  When Natalie's mother is incapacitated, Natalie blames herself. Given the circumstances, do you think she could or should have done anything differently? How would you distinguish between self-care and selfishness? Which was it for Natalie? Have you ever experienced similar guilt and wished you could change the past?

  Natalie's guilt causes her to withdraw from her husband and daughter. Why do you think Natalie found it so hard to open up about what she was going through? Could her family have done more to help her face her feelings?

  Daniel, Natalie's husband, struggles to balance career aspirations with his family's needs and desires. Do you think it would be unfair of him to uproot his family in order to advance his coaching career? How can a married couple determine whose needs take priority when family or career pulls them in opposite directions?

  Why do you think it's sometimes difficult for a Christian to admit to the reality of depression? Whom do you find it easier to talk to during difficult times? A family member? Friend? Pastor? Counselor? How could you encourage someone who is hurting to share the burden?

  In small communities like Fawn Ridge and Putnam, it's hard to be “invisible.” In what ways do you think such a close-knit community helped or hindered Natalie and Daniel? Describe life in your community. How well do you know your neighbors? Could you count on them in a crisis? Could they count on you?

  At times Natalie felt it would almost be better if her mother died rather than continue as an invalid. Can you identify with such feelings? Is it possible to find value in human suffering, for the sufferer as well as for those who love and care for the person? Have you known someone whose suffering helped you grow in some way?

  Natalie's daughter Lissa refuses to accept the end of her parents' marriage. Do you think she goes too far to keep them together? How would you describe Natalie and Daniel as parents? What have they done right? How have they failed? Do parents' mistakes say anything one way or the other about how much they love their children?

  Deannie, Natalie's assistant, has her own motives for interfering in Natalie's life. Why do you think she became such a willing accomplice in Lissa's plans? Was her Uncle Jeff too forgiving or patient with her? Describe a time when you gave someone a second (or third or fourth) chance. Did it work out? Why or why not?

  During one of her counseling sessions, Natalie finds herself calling her mother stubborn. Is she right? What kind of mother do you think Belinda Morgan was?

  What legacy do you think Belinda most wants to leave to her family? What legacy do you want to leave to your loved ones?

  We tend to think of Christmas as a time for miracles and often create unrealistic expectations for the holiday. Why do you think that is? What was the real Christmas miracle for Natalie? What would constitute a “perfect” Christmas for you?

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  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  1

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  3

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  15

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  21

  Discussion Questions