The Candle in the Window (Part 5)

candleinthewindow

Today is the final part of my holiday-themed story. For some reason, it seems like this December has gone especially fast and here we are already–ready to celebrate our Lord’s birth! I hope that you have enjoyed this story and that it will give you cause to think outside just you and your own family this Christmas and move your thoughts towards those who may not have a family or who may have lost a loved one this past year. Christmas can be especially hard for so many dear people. 

If you have missed this series, you can find Part 4 here. You will also find links to the other three parts on that post.

And, now, onto the fifth and final part of The Candle in the Window

     Helen lit the red candle and then went into the kitchen to heat up the leftover Christmas dinner that Marge had brought her last night. The memory of the night before warmed her heart. Christmas Eve spent with a friend was so much better than spending it alone. It even took a bit of the sting out of spending Christmas Day all by herself. She hummed Joy to the World as the microwave heated her meal.
     She decided to take the plate of the food into the living room. This was the last evening that she would burn the Christmas Candle and she wanted to fully enjoy it. Setting the plate on her recliner seat, she pulled an old TV tray table from it’s spot in the corner and set it up. She sat and rested for a minute or two before turning on the TV and digging into the turkey and stuffing before her.
     Thirty minutes later found her dozing, with an empty plate in front of her and an old Christmas movie playing on the TV.

______________________________________________________

     Jessa licked her lips nervously. Perhaps this was a really crazy idea. Maybe her grandmother wouldn’t even want to see her. What was she thinking?
     “Ready?” Mark smiled at her.
     Lacey was full of nervous excitement, while Logan looked just a bit bored at the whole situation.
     “Okay, let’s do this,” Jessa determinedly started walking towards the front door of the little white Cape Cod. When the rest of the family had gathered there with her, she took a deep breath and then knocked.
     Since setting out the red candle at home a few weeks ago, Jessa had felt an increasing desire to find out if anyone from her father’s family was still alive. What she had discovered was that there was only one person left—her elderly grandmother. The family had decided they would drive the hour south to visit her after they had had Christmas dinner with her mother’s side of the family. Since they had been with Mark’s family on Christmas Eve, Christmas evening had seemed like the perfect time to make the momentous visit. But now here they were. At her house. On Christmas day. To Jessa it all felt quite surreal and a bit frightening.
     As the family stood on the front porch and waited, they looked around. The little house was in much disrepair. Besides being in dire need of a fresh coat of paint, the porch needed fixed and the shrubbery needed trimmed. Mark, always big-hearted and generous, started thinking about how the family could help his wife’s grandmother before he even met her.
     Suddenly, the door swung open, and there stood a small, thin woman.
     “Merry Christmas to you,” Jessa said nervously, “are you Mrs. Helen Morgan? Helen Rose Morgan?”
     “Why yes, that’s me,” she said, puzzled. She shivered as a gust of cold air blew into the warm room behind her.
     “We are the Washington family and we have come from across the border especially to see you. May we come in for just a moment? We have something we’d like to share with you.”
     Helen grew just a little nervous at the smiling strangers. Her eyes took in the tall African-American man with glasses and then moved to the pretty tan blue-eyed woman with dark curly hair. With them were two older children. The boy looked like he didn’t want to be there but the girl looked sweet. Who in the world would come visiting a stranger on Christmas day? How odd! She stared at them for a few more seconds before finally deciding they looked safe enough and inviting them inside.
     “Have a seat,” she said as she gestured to the sofa across the room. Her hands shook nervously as she second-guessed the wisdom of letting strangers into her home. She had heard horrible stories about wicked people who tricked and terrorized the elderly. What if they were going to steal from her? Or, even worse, kill her?
     There must have been a look of terror in her eyes, for Mark tenderly touched her shoulder and said, “Oh, Mrs. Morgan, you need not fear. We are here to share good news!”
     He moved to the slip-covered sofa and sat down. The family followed his lead and soon they were all squeezed there, side by side. Helen felt herself relax just a bit. They did seem like a very nice family.
     After they introduced themselves, they all sat there for a few awkward moments in silence, until finally Mark gave an imperceptible nod of his head to Jessa. At that, Jessa said a quick prayer for strength and then just decided to get it over with. Out it all came in one big rush, “Mrs. Morgan, we are here because, well, I think you are my grandmother.”
     Helen’s eyes grew big at this but she remained quiet.
     “You see, my father died in a car accident before I was born so I never met him. I knew his name was Kenneth Roy Morgan and thought about trying to find his family through the years but…”
     “Your father was Kenneth Roy Morgan?” Helen interrupted, aghast, “Are you sure? Kenny didn’t have any children.”
     As Jessa shared her story of how Kenny and Bernadette had met and then got married and had her, Helen started shaking uncontrollably.
     “Kenny’s daughter? You are Kenny’s daughter?” Helen kept saying it over and over again in disbelief.
     “Are you okay, Grandma?” Lacey rushed to her side in her typical fashion. To this precocious and loving child, this woman was her grandma and it made total sense to call her that. She had no idea that this name was a name that Helen never thought she would be called. The shock was almost too much.
     Mark stepped in, “Lacey would you go to the kitchen and get Mrs. Morgan a glass of water?”
     As she left to do her father’s bidding, he tenderly held Helen’s hand, “Mrs. Morgan, we are so sorry for the shock. A few weeks ago, Jessa’s mother died. This event awakened in her a desire to find her father’s family. As she searched, she realized that you are the only relative left on her father’s side. She wanted to meet you as soon as possible and so here we are. Are you okay?”
     Helen’s heart had stopped pounding as this new and wonderful thought started to seep into her brain and then settled into her heart. She had a family! She had a FAMILY! SHE HAD A FAMILY! The words just kept ringing in her ears.
     Happy tears made their way down her wrinkled face as unfamiliar hope started to grow in her heart. As she sipped the cup of water Lacey handed her, she looked at Jessa. She had felt like something was familiar about the woman but couldn’t figure out what. But, suddenly, she knew! It was her cobalt blue eyes. Kenneth had those same eyes. And the boy–Jessa’s son—he looked like Kenneth. How had she missed that earlier? Oh, he had darker skin but he had those same blue eyes and something about his face definitely reminded her of her boy at that age. She knew without a doubt that this family was telling her the truth.
     “Come here, dear,” Helen directed the gentle request to Jessa. When Jessa was kneeling in front of her, Helen put her frail hand up to caress her face, “Oh, how much I have missed. Oh, how dreadfully sorry I am that I wasn’t there for you and your mother. If only I had known,” she said sadly and then sat in silence for a few moments while Jessa tenderly held her hand and then Helen smiled and looked at the children, “So I suppose that makes you two my great-grandchildren!” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
     Logan gave a gentle smile—even he was effected by this reunion– but Lacey jumped to her feet and rushed to her great-grandmother’s side, talking a mile a minute, “So what would you like me to call you, Grandma? I mean, I know that you aren’t really my grandma, but “great-grandma” seems like such a long name to call you and since my other grandma just died, maybe you could kinda take her place? Well, not take her place exactly but be my grandma now that she’s gone? Would that be okay?—”she was prepared to go on but Mark quickly put a firm hand on her shoulder.
     “Shhh, Lacey,” he said quietly behind her.
     “Oh, don’t shush her,” said Helen merrily, “I haven’t had this much fun since–well, perhaps since your father left our home,” this she directed to Jessa, “It has been an awfully long time since I had some young blood around here and I am enjoying it immensely!”
     And, with that, she turned towards Lacey and the two of them chatted on and on, while the rest of the family sat quietly and listened.
     A little later in the evening, Mark asked if he could read the Christmas story and the family talked about God’s Son coming in a manger and how He would later grow up to die so that man could be forgiven and reconciled to God. They talked about Jesus like He was their friend. Helen was puzzled and unfamiliar with that part of the Bible.
     A few hours later, the family gathered their things together with a promise to return soon. Phone numbers were exchanged and Jessa promised to call Helen and check on her the next day. The family all hugged Helen good-bye like they had known her for years. Their coats were on and they were just about to leave when Jessa stopped in her tracks as she spotted the red candle.
     “That candle in the window…”
     “Oh, yes, that was one of your father’s favorite Christmas traditions!” smiled Helen, “Light a red candle to…”
     “Symbolize the light that Jesus brought to the world,” finished Jessa, “My mom and I did that in honor of my dad for all of my growing up years. In fact, I am continuing the tradition at my house now.”
     Helen’s heart felt like it would burst. Kenny’s memory was still alive in another soul besides her own. It was so comforting somehow.
     More hugs and then they were gone and the house grew strangely quiet again. Helen sat back down in her recliner with just the candle for light and reveled in pleasant thoughts of family picnics and dinners. She dreamed of going to gardens and concerts with her new family. And, most of all, of never having to spend another Christmas alone. After an hour of daydreaming, she blew out the candle in the window and went to bed.

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     In the months and years to follow, Helen’s newfound family would fulfill all their promises and more to the elderly lady. They took her to concerts and gardens. They took her to doctor and dentist appointments. And Helen never spent another Christmas alone but was, instead, surrounded by her loving family. But, most of all, they introduced her to the baby in a manger. They told her that Jesus had died for her sins and that if she believed on Him as her Savior, she would be reconciled to God and spend eternity with Him in Heaven. Helen did believe and started studying her Bible during her many hours alone. Placing the red candle in the window each Christmas became even more special as Helen finally understood the real meaning of the long-held family tradition. And when, five years later, she slipped away quietly in her sleep, her family knew– without a shadow of a doubt–that they would see her again.

 

I hope you have enjoyed this 2016 Christmas story. As you probably already know, this is far outside my usual content. However, sometimes it is just nice to do something different! If you have enjoyed this story, would you take a moment to comment and let me know?

Please note: I reserve the right to delete comments that are offensive or off-topic.

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19 thoughts on “The Candle in the Window (Part 5)

  1. I enjoyed your story very much! I hope you will keep writing when you can. I enjoy reading your blogs also! Have a very Merry Christmas!!!

  2. Such a creative, compelling 5-part composition of our God “working all things together for good to those who love Him!”. May our great God and Savior Jesus Christ continually fill you with His Spirit to be a channel of such wholesome and inspirational truth until His appearing. Your story reminded me of this poem:
    My life is just a weaving
    Between my Lord and me.
    I cannot change the color
    For He works most steadily.

    Oft times He weaves the sorrow
    And I in foolish pride
    Forget He sees the upper
    And I the underside.

    Until the loom is silent
    And the shuttle cease to fly,
    Will God roll back the canvas
    And explain the reason why.

    The dark threads are as needful
    In the skillful Weaver’s Hand
    As the golden threads of silver
    He has patterned in His Plan.

  3. Leslie, I always enjoy reading short Christmas stories during the holidays, and yours were just as good as any that have been officially published. I know yours are good, because they made me cry. To me, that is the sign of a good story:-). Thank you, and Merry Christmas with your family.

    • Thank you, Pam! I have really been considering writing some fiction that points to biblical principles but have been so uncertain if I am good enough to do this. Your words are very encouraging to me!!

  4. Leslie, I finally had a chance to read your wonderful story. I enjoyed reading it through in one sitting. It was a joy to read and wonderfully written. I smiled and I cried a couple of the hallmarks of a good story well told. Thank you for sharing and I look forward to more stories.

  5. Leslie~ your Christmas story was wonderful!!! I have been looking forward to sitting down, and reading it all at one time. Just minutes ago, I made a cup of tea, grabbed a blanket and curled up by the fire and read your story….and yes, it brought tears!! I have told you before, ( in person) you are a gifted writer!! Keep it up! Loved it!! :)))