A Cardinal Christmas (Christmas Holiday Extravaganza)

by LoRee Peery

  7

  Sunday morning, Blythe and Werner stepped out the front door to discover the sky had changed. Blue no longer rimmed the horizon as it had at breakfast. Now the air above them was grayish-white, the sun obscured by the opaque.

  “Here. Wait. I don’t want you to get an icy blast down your neck.” Werner tugged the ends of her green plaid scarf tighter. “Looks like snow.”

  She gave an exaggerated shiver inside Mom’s borrowed coat. “Feels like snow.”

  “With that moisture in the air…” Werner paused.

  “It must be snow,” they chorused.

  “I’m glad Dad didn’t consider coming out.”

  “Your mom is a dear to stay with him.”

  “She’s worn out. Thank you for helping her with the trees and decorating yesterday. I hope she can rest today.”

  “I wasn’t about to sit idly by and watch the two of you have all the fun.” He tugged her hand and engulfed it in his glove.

  No harm in slowing from her usual fast pace. Walking closer to his warm body also helped against the wind.

  He squeezed her fingers. “If I read your folks correctly at breakfast, I doubt your mom is sleeping any better alone than he is in that recliner.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. Just consider how many years they’ve been together. That bed is no doubt mighty empty for her without Dad.” Blythe groaned inside. At least a blush could be blamed on the cold.

  Werner didn’t get a chance to comment.

  Kameron and Hayley met them at the base of the Edgewood Community Church steps. It was natural to accept their bulletins and sit in the same pew. Since they weren’t really a couple, it also seemed appropriate for the Kohls to sit between her and Werner. That way she could chat with Hayley and Werner with Kameron.

  Pastor Gregg took the stage. He greeted the congregation with a kind smile. Blue eyes twinkled. It appeared to Blythe that his white hair had been recently trimmed. He raised his arms in greeting. “‘I, Nebuchadnezzar, raised my eyes toward heaven, and my sanity was restored. Then I praised the Most High; I honored and glorified him who lives forever.’ That quote is from Daniel chapter four, verse thirty-four. We’ll get back to what old Neb said in a few moments. For now, take time to say good morning to those seated around you.”

  Werner leaned out in front of Kameron and waved at Blythe. “You doing all right?”

  She forced herself not to roll her eyes and framed her mouth as though to yell but giggled instead.

  He gave her a thumb’s up, smiled, and then faced forward as the pianist played a few familiar notes to introduce the Christmas carol. Werner’s rich baritone surprised Blythe. The man could carry a fine tune.

  The congregants sang two more carols.

  Blythe settled back in her seat. She forced her shoulders to relax for Pastor’s sermon.

  Gregg pointed to a side window. “I was pleased to see the sun early this morning and wanted its brightness to keep shining. But, alas, I’m not the one to say when the sky reflects my wishes. We’ve all seen the giant golden ball that warms the earth and keeps all living things alive. We can still look up and imagine its brightness, even when it’s hidden by clouds. We’ve seen the deep blue of a fathomless sky. We’ve seen beautiful birds such as peacocks or parakeets. In our little corner of the world, cardinals grace us with their presence. We notice nature and admit God is at the heart of all creation.”

  What did pretty birds have to do with a sermon?

  “Many of us have seen the grandeur of mountains. If we haven’t, we’ve seen them in movies or paintings. I don’t know how many more images or illustrations of looking up I can mention, but taking our eyes off the troubles on earth, my friends, is where we find joy.”

  Had Pastor Gregg sought out Blythe? It seemed he looked right at her.

  “Consider the Psalmist in thirty-four, fifth verse. ‘Those who look to Him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.’”

  Blythe squirmed. Did shame of neglect, not spending time with the Lord, show on her face? A frown accompanied her outlook way too much.

  Pastor Gregg continued, “Familiar to many, the beginning of Psalm 121 reminds us to lift up our eyes to the hills. Have you ever raised your head to heaven, searching for help? The Psalmist answers his own question. ‘My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.’ I can honestly say that’s where my help comes from as well. How about you?”

  Had Pastor directed that question to her? She hadn’t had a radiant countenance turned toward heaven lately.

  “And one more reference. Isaiah tells us in chapter forty, verse twenty-six, to lift our eyes and look to the heavens. Our Creator made those billions of stars we see on a clear winter night. He calls them out to shine. He calls each one of those stars in its place, by name. God can do no less than that for us. He cares for us. Every. Single. One. Of. Us.”

  Blythe closed her eyes and imagined an inky winter sky.

  Pastor Gregg wound down. “No matter where you are today. No matter what’s going on that causes your pain or sorrow. No matter what you may be struggling with. Our mighty, powerful Creator knows. He cares. Let Him be your strength. Look to Him to give you joy, no matter what’s happening. Look up. Could be if you go out this afternoon, you’ll get a face full of snow.”

  She wanted to join in a smile as the congregation chuckled, but the struggle proved too much.

  “Remember always,” Pastor concluded, “our joy and our strength come from no other source than the Lord Jesus. Good day to you all.”

  Convicted, Blythe left worship with the intent of spending needed time with Jesus. She glanced at His image in stained glass. His eyes drew her. Trust Me.

  “Comforting, isn’t it?” Had Werner read her mind? He turned to Kameron. “How long have you known Jesus?”

  Hayley and Kameron exchanged glances. She gave him a nod.

  “I grew up hearing and reading about Him all my life, but He’s only been in my heart a year.”

  Werner hugged Kameron and slapped him on the back. “Can you imagine the angel chorus?”

  Kameron threw back his head and laughed. “I wondered the exact same thing.”

  “So you knew the Bible?”

  “I grew up with Pastor Gregg, remember?”

  They turned as one and scurried to the parsonage at a fast clip, men in front to block the north wind.

  Hayley hugged Blythe, stepped away, and then closed her coat collar tight around her neck. “Come have lunch with me tomorrow.”

  “Love to. Can I bring anything?”

  “Thanks, but we have plenty of chicken noodle soup simmering in the huge slow cooker.”

  “It’ll taste better tomorrow. See you then.”

  Werner held out his hand, which she gladly accepted. They ran the remaining two blocks to her parents’ home.

  Through lunch, they answered Mom’s query about the sermon topic.

  Dad claimed he wasn’t hungry and laid back with his eyes closed.

  Werner leaned in close as they stood to clear the table. “I think he listened to every word.”

  “I heard that,” Dad groused from his easy chair. He propped up the recliner back. “I like to imagine you living out your life here, daughter, in this place close to nature. I know I’m glad for the country life until I see Jesus face to face.”

  Did he expect an answer from Blythe?

  “I know you feel that way, dear, now lean back and snooze.” Bette Jean sent a direct glance toward Blythe. “Nothing wrong with a Sunday nap, people. I’m parking it on the couch as soon as I rinse these dishes.”

  “Need help, Mom?”

  “With my nap? Unless you fear the cold, why don’t you two go out on the trail? Snow may be too deep to walk early in the morning.”

  Blythe wasn’t ready to revisit the sermon a third time, and that’s what would happen if she sequestered herself. She leaned into Werner. “Feel like a fresh afternoon walk?”

  “Sure. But I’m a
dding a layer. Or two.”

  “Me, too. Meet you at the door in ten.”

  They walked into a white world, the sky, ground, and wind swirling snowflakes in every direction.

  She reached for Werner’s hand at the same instant he extended his, but she didn’t make eye contact. It was easier to keep her head lowered rather than have the wind bite her cheeks.

  “I hope you don’t plan on a long jaunt.” Werner released her hand and slung his arm around her shoulders. “I sure hope the trees break the wind.”

  They found a fast pace as they headed east. The snow fell faster, landing on her eyelashes. Three quarters of a mile later, she sucked in a breath, about to ask if he was ready to turn around.

  He pulled her to a stop and led her off the trail to the tree line where snow hadn’t drifted yet. “Those are funny looking tracks for a deer.”

  She laughed. “Think about it. Two long, thin prints. What’s the third little round puff?”

  “I’m stumped.”

  She sang, “Here comes Peter Cottontail.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Haven’t you ever watched a rabbit hop?”

  He worked his jaw as though he chewed on what she’d said. Then he tugged his cap closer around his eyes and leaned over to study the tracks in the snow. “You’re not telling me the third print is from a cottony tail.”

  She shrugged and hustled back the way they’d come.

  He stopped her again and pointed south. “What made the tracks in a straight line?”

  “A cat.”

  The wind calmed. The snow stopped. A reprieve.

  She took a step.

  He stalled her with a hand on her arm. “Shh. Hear that?”

  “The bird?”

  “Not just any bird. A cardinal. Singing for the joy of it. I think he’s saying to Blythe, cheer-up, cheer-up, cheer-up.” He pulled her in to face him. “What do you think?”

  “That you have quite an imagination.”

  “God used His imagination when He created all the beasts and birds. He takes care of them, so God’s got everything that touches our lives. Good or bad.”

  So much for putting off God talk. “I agree with you. As children we were drawn, almost compelled, to play outdoors. As though nature called to us. Maybe the woodland creatures feel the same way. God calls them out to play in the snow.”

  “Nature’s a gift.” He looked over her shoulder, made her sway in his arms. “Have you ever pictured God creating the world? Imagined Eden? I think heaven will be our Eden.”

  She broke eye contact. “Do you believe God wrapped up Eden in a bubble and zapped it off to heaven after Adam and Eve were cast out of the garden?”

  “That’s a wee bit deep on a day that’s turning colder with every frozen breath. He reveals different things to each of us in uniquely personal ways.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Remember. His ways are higher than our ways.”

  “And He’s in charge of this weather. Let’s get home before it starts snowing again.”

  He pulled on her hand where they had to leave the trail for town. “Stop. Take one more moment to listen.”

  “I don’t hear anything.”

  “That’s right. It’s the sound of silence. I crave that sound. It’s in the quiet when Jesus talks to me best. The world we live in is too noisy. That’s one of the reasons I enjoy riding my bike.”

  Too soon, she opened the door to the zinging of a text alert on her phone.

  They sloughed off their boots and outerwear.

  Then she picked up her cell.

  Mom turned from the fridge. “That’s the third or fourth time. I started to shut it off, but your dad said not to. You’d better see if it’s important.”

  She turned over her phone and swiped. “Two coworkers have lost their jobs. They both say to get my butt back to Atlanta.”

  “I’m taking my behind to the bedroom before the day is gone and I haven’t rested.” Mom removed the ice packs from around Dad’s knee and kissed him. “Watch the clock, dear, so you don’t forget your medicine.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Mom headed for her bedroom.

  Blythe and Werner went into the kitchen, leaving Dad to snooze in the recliner.

  “I love the interaction between your folks.” Werner said with a wistful tone.

  Blythe had never read such vulnerability in Werner’s face.

  “I doubt you’d ask for my opinion, but I think you’re meant to live here and maintain a calmer life. Spend time in the outdoors of your childhood. Lincoln is bound to have challenging jobs for your skills.” What he didn’t say weighted the air between them.

  The comment grated her spine. She loved her job, didn’t she? Her mouth dropped open. “You don’t know anything about my life away from here. I’m good at my job, so good I’ve been approached by other hotel chains.”

  He yanked off his pullover sweater and followed her up the stairs. At the door to her room, he grazed his knuckles along her cheek. “Would you stay in Nebraska if I asked you to? Stayed to be with me?”

  8

  At five minutes past noon, Werner knocked on the Kohls’ side door.

  Summer’s happy barking welcomed him.

  “Hello,” Kameron greeted. “Say hi to the dogs, or they’ll carry on until you pay them attention.”

  Werner scratched the husky behind its ears. “Good to see you, big boy. Sit, Winter. Good boy.” He smoothed a hand down the rat terrier from neck to tail. “And you’re wearing a pretty sweater, Summer.”

  “She’d freeze in this kind of weather without it.” Kameron tossed Werner’s coat on a chair. “Hope you don’t mind grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

  “Sounds good to me. I’m glad to eat lunch on the lighter side. Bette Jean is quite the cook.” He patted his abdomen.

  “How’re things going with Ross’s recuperation? I didn’t get a chance to ask yesterday.”

  “The therapist and surgeon told Ross it’s possible the whole leg can be painful for eight weeks. Exercises are paramount to the healing process.”

  “Does he know when he’ll be back to work?”

  Werner shrugged. “One day at a time.”

  “I’d say relying on the Lord’s care from day to day is a prime way to live. Carrying on without worry about the future.” Kameron set the second bowl of soup on the table. “Take a seat. I’ll pray.”

  Werner folded his hands, embracing Kameron’s prayer as a repeat of what he’d just said, and thanked the Lord for His daily provision. He looked up after the Amen. “As a married man, do you get concerned about the future? Maybe wondering if your writing and Hayley’s shop are enough to bank on.”

  “They are right now. Speaking of the future, do you know what you’ll do when Ross gets back to work?”

  “As long as people need vehicles they’ll need mechanics, so I have no worries.”

  “Good way to look at things.” Kameron paid attention to the second half of his sandwich.

  Werner looked around what he could see of the kitchen and living area. “I assume the bright yellow and gold accents to the greenery are Hayley’s handiwork. Interesting Christmas colors.”

  Kameron laughed. “I don’t have to tell you her favorite color is yellow. I like the switch from so much Christmas red.”

  “I like red myself. Reminds me of Jesus’ blood.”

  “Right. We can’t think about Christmas without considering the meaning of Easter.”

  “I guess Blythe and Hayley have been lifetime friends. How’d someone so young get into such old things, and did she inherit Auntie’s Antiquities from an aunt?”

  Kameron finished his soup. “The shop was Hayley’s mom’s first. She liked to collect stuff from long ago according to Hayley, and I quote, ‘Old sweet things such as trinkets’ from estate sales, auctions, garage sales. The story goes that one time while an auctioneer rattled away, they heard a family member say the woman who’d passed inherited most of her belongings f
rom an aunt.”

  “Everyone’s heard of dreaming of an inheritance from a long, lost relative.”

  “Right. We make jokes about it. I guess at that sale someone said she wished she had an aunt to pass on such antiquities. Hayley and her mom had the same thought, and Auntie’s Antiquities was born.”

  “Pretty cool how God works things out.” Werner checked the time and then leaned back. “It’s close to your first spiritual birthday, isn’t it?”

  “Yup. Men supposedly aren’t meant to cry, but the love of Jesus hit my heart hard. Maybe you’ve heard we had a scare with Gregg last December. Winter and Summer ran loose and Hayley found Gregg on the ground. He’d had a mini stroke. All is well with him now.” Kameron’s face lit up. “I always felt sorry for myself. An unknown girl, I assume she was young, left me abandoned on the church steps. I was adopted by Pastor Gregg’s sister and grew up under his preaching.”

  “What a blessing.”

  “I didn’t see it that way. I saw myself as unlovable, worthless. Then the light came on and my heart was flooded with how much the Father loves me. That’s when I cried. Hayley loves me. Gregg’s always loved me. My mom and sister love me. Life is grand. So, what about you?”

  “Loaded question, man. I know I’m loved by God. Without my parents alive now, I was compelled to come back here. Something about this part of the country felt like home when I was a boy. Maybe you heard Blythe and I met when the trail was still used by an occasional train. Now that I’m getting to know her as an adult, my heart is convinced I’m at home here.”

  “Hayley told me she and Blythe walked the tracks as girls. They found a beaver dam once. I try to take the dogs out on a daily basis, usually after lunch.” As if on cue, both dogs rushed to his side.

  Werner laughed at the clicking sound of Summer’s nails across the kitchen tile. “Guess that’s my cue to head back to the garage.”

  “They can wait until I get the dishes cleared.”

  “Wind’s picked up again. It sure makes those trees noisy along the trail.”