Christmas Lights
by Mary Manners
When the subject
of Christmas gifts comes up, most people think of packages wrapped in colorful
paper and shimmery bows, sitting under the Christmas tree, just waiting to be
opened.
When I think of
Christmas gifts, I think of my dad, who passed away fourteen years ago this
holiday season. He was a man of many gifts, including the joy he shared for the
traditions of Christmas.
Dad loved
light—especially the light that brightened a fresh-cut pine tree in honor of
the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Each December first, like
clockwork, Dad piled his family—all seven of us—into our Chevy station wagon
and drove us to the tree lot where, shivering in the Chicago-winter cold, we oohed and aahed over each and every tree until we found the perfect one.
Once home, with
the tree safely arranged in a metal stand and watered, Dad climbed the ladder
to our attic (a mysterious place, indeed) where the Christmas lights were
stored. He’d lower the battered cardboard box (re-used, season after season) to
the floor below and dust it off.
Then my brother
and sisters—five of us—gathered ’round him in the living room and waited, eyes
huge with wonder, as he carefully unraveled the strands of lights and tested
each one. No matter how stubborn the bulbs, dad always managed to get them
working.
Beautiful, vibrant
colors turned the room to a kaleidoscope, dancing over walls and windows with
the feel of winter magic. One by one, my siblings and I each took the place of
honor beside Dad, helping him to adorn the tree with light. Pine sap clung to
our fingers, but we didn’t care. All the while, our hearts soared with
happiness and child-like wonder.
Finally, dad
gently gathered the Christmas star from the box. Hushed with awe, we waited
while Dad chose one of us to hoist to his shoulders for the greatest
thrill—placing the treasured beacon of light—the Baby Jesus Star—atop the
highest limb. Somehow, Dad always sensed who needed that extra touch of
attention, and there was never any argument.
With the lights in
place (just in time for nightfall—always) we circled the tree and held hands to
sing Silent Night. In the earliest years, the tune didn’t always carry and the
words were sometimes off, but Dad didn’t care. He knew we understood what the
tree—and especially the lights—symbolized…the birth of our Lord and Savior,
Jesus. The most wonderful gift of all!
~~~~~
When
attorney Riley Harper comes home to Maple Ridge following the death of his
grandfather, the last thing he expects to find is Kaylee McKenna living in his
grandparents’ guesthouse. Though they were once best friends—even more—Riley
cannot find it in his heart to forgive Kaylee for the death of his mother ten
years ago as a result of her father’s reckless actions. His heart, full of
bitterness and resentment, has room for little else.
Kaylee has
not time to dwell on events of the past—or all she’s lost; she’s too busy
raising her six-year-old niece, Rosie, and working as an ER nurse. With
Christmas quickly approaching, her days are spent helping with charity events
and filling the wishes on Rosie’s Christmas list. But when Rosie’s father makes
and unexpected visit, Kaylee must call on Riley’s legal expertise to ensure
Rosie of a safe and secure future.
Will Rosie’s
special Christmas wish heal Riley’s damaged heart and bind the trio together as
a forever-family?
~~~~~
Mary Manners is an award-winning romance writer who lives in the
beautiful foothills of East Tennessee with her husband Tim and the
cherished cats they've rescued from local animal shelters...Lucky and Gus.
She loves swimming, running, flavored coffee and Smoky Mountain sunsets.
Mary believes everyone has a story to tell, and she loves to share
hers. She writes inspirational romances of all lengths, from short stories to
novels—something for everyone.
Learn more about Mary Manners at her website: www.MaryMannersRomance.com.
