to the parents, then back at Naomi. “You must be very pleased to have such a smart mama and papa.” The little girl nodded. “Tell me, do you ever go to school?”
Naomi shook her head. “No school to go to.”
“No school to go to, sir,” her father corrected.
“Sir,” she added.
“Our nearest neighbor is ten miles away by Hoyt along the Bijou Creek,” Chad explained. “The nearest school is even farther.”
“Well then, I see your problem. Coming from a busy city, it’s hard for me to imagine being so isolated,” their guest commented.
“Where is it you’re from?” Helen asked, her first biscuit already gone.
“Denver, Misses Jenkins. I own a store there.”
“My, what brings you out so far in winter?” she inquired.
Gabriel grimaced. “It’s a long story, but I guess we have all night.”
Chad rose to put more wood on the fire while their guest began his story.
“ ‘Bout ten days ago I received a letter from my grandson, Luke. He’s the fourteen-year-old. The letter was dated December first. He asked me to come for a visit this Christmastime. He told me how cold and hungry they all were and that his mother, who’s my daughter, was too ashamed to write to me for help. You see, she married without my consent to an unbeliever. She’s been vexed ever since with his drinking, swearing and occasional gambling. He can’t seem to settle in one spot and stay there long enough to make ends meet. The children have suffered so, it breaks a grandfather’s heart. I’ve done what I could over the years, when I knew where they were. Any way, I left the store in the hands of a friend and packed my sleigh with things for my daughter and her family. I journeyed four days, but when I got to the town where the letter had been sent from, they were already gone. No one had seen them for a week. The little old cabin they had lived in for a short time was vacant yet again, with no trace or clue as to where they’d gone. I can only assume Roger found out about the letter or heard of some poker game or something and pulled up stakes before I could arrive.” Gabriel stared dreamily into the fire. “I really would have liked to have seen my grandchildren.” The room was quiet. “Missy is my only child. I became a widower years ago. She and the children are all I have left.”
The Jenkins family continued to listen with interest.
“I’ve offered to let them live with me, but Missy and Roger refuse. I know my grandchildren would be willing, but they don’t have much say in things. I pray for them all every day.” He was quiet again.
“We can add them to our prayers as well,” Chad offered.
“I appreciate that, son,” the older man replied. Helen smiled at him, her eyes filled with compassion. “So I was on my way back to Denver when the storm hit. I got off course and lost my way. And now, I’m here, thanks to the Lord.”
“May God bless you and protect your daughter and her family, wherever they are,” Helen told him with compassion.
“Thank you,” he answered, appreciation in his smile.
Naomi got off her stool and stood next to Gabriel. “We can be your grandchildren for now if you want us to. We don’t have no grandparents,” she told him with a pure and earnest heart.
Gabriel was choked up. He reached out to hug her. “Thank you, young one. I’d like that.”
“Me, too!” Michael called from his seat.
“Me, too!” little Johnathan added, not wanting to be left out from things.
“I am truly blessed,” Gabriel told them all.
Helen was crying from her chair. Her children’s thoughtfulness was touching. This Christmas it was all they had, but they gave it freely. It reminded her of Jesus’ love, true agape love. Helen smiled with pride.
“Thank you, Father, for this Christmas. Thank you for my children, my husband and my life. Amen.” she silently prayed.
Chad gave her a knowing grin. He was proud of his children, too.
“Well, you young ‘uns better get on back to bed now that your bellies are full,” Gabriel said. “Get lots of sleep ‘cause tomorrow’s going to be an exciting day.”
Chad and Helen wondered what he meant by that, but said nothing. They helped tuck the children back under their quilt. With a hug and a kiss from their parents, the children settled in.
“I want to thank you, Mister Davidson, for that fine meal,” Chad told him. “We’ve had a year of trials and our resources are low.”
“The food was my pleasure to share,” Gabriel answered. “And tomorrow, you can tell me about your trials. But right now, with your permission, this old man needs rest.”
“Certainly, sir, my apologies.”
“None necessary, son. I thank you for your hospitality. Ma’am,” he said, nodding toward Helen.
She nodded in return, “Goodnight, Mister Davidson.”
Gabriel laid out his coat before the fire. Removing his boots, he knelt down to pray. Helen and Chad readied themselves for bed as well so they would not stare at him and intrude on his time with God. Helen went to the privy which was located behind a curtain in the far corner of the room. It made a small triangular space that gave a body privacy in their close winter quarters – embarrassing, but necessary. How she longed for the privacy of their outhouse with a guest in the home.
A short time later, all the adults were settled in. Stomachs full and bodies warm from the fire, sleep came quickly.
When Helen awoke the next morning, all was quiet. She looked over to the children who still slept soundly. A dull light shone in through the two small windows. Chad was asleep beside her. Then she remembered their guest. Helen raised her head a bit so she could look at him. There was no man, or bear coat on the floor. Helen sat up in bed. Had she dreamed it all? She rubbed her eyes and looked around. The plate for the biscuits was sitting empty on the table. Mister Davidson’s satchel was gone. Helen frowned. Surely it had been real.
Rising from the bed, still fully clothed in her brown wool dress, Helen walked over to a window. Peering out, she spotted footprints in the deep snow leading out to the barn. Had he already gone? She turned back to Chad wondering whether or not to wake him. She noticed the fire was nothing but simmering embers. She would put more wood on, then wake him.
Passing the table, she looked down at the blue metal plate. Yes, there were biscuit crumbs on it. It had not been a dream. Helen pushed her long, loose brown hair behind her shoulders. She did not want it to catch fire. Carefully, she placed two logs into the stone structure. Soon, she would set a pot of water to boiling for the oats.
Just as she was backing away from the fire, the front door opened. Helen jumped with fright, making a noise as her hand flew to calm her beating heart. She recognized Gabriel’s enormous warm coat entering. His arms were burdened with sacks, jugs and jars. She leapt quickly to offer help.
“Good morning,” he greeted quietly as she took several items.
Helen
