“Tell us the story Grandma; tell us…P-L-E-A-S-E!”
Little Andy tugged on Cindy’s skirt hem all the while looking up at her with that shock of red hair and three year old grin. Audrey sat quietly on the floraled couch reading “The Night before Christmas”, her long flowing red curls glistening from the hour spent with Grandma’s brush. She broke from reading to see her Grandmother; Andy still stuck to her hem, bringing a plate of chocolate chip cookies and three glasses of cool white milk into the den. “Let me help you with that Grandma,” she said as she slid the book to one side and quickly grabbed two of the milk glasses before they slipped from Cindy’s hand. “Thank you my dear.” Cindy sat the remaining glass and plate of cookies on the table that was in front of the couch, turned, and threw her tiny grandson up on her hip. “Now, my little bumble bee,” she said as she rubbed his nose with hers, “you want to hear the story of how an angel came for Christmas do you?” “YES! YES! YES!” the little boy pleaded as he shook his upper body back in forth in his joyful dance. “Audrey, what about you, can you bear to hear Grandma tell her boring story for the millionth time?”
“Oh yes, Grandma! I would love to hear the special Christmas story again.”
“Very well,” Cindy said with a sigh. She knew she would never get out of not telling the story to her two beautiful grandchildren. So, she snuggled down, pulled them close and began to tell them of how an angel came that faithful Christmas when she needed it most…