Debbie Macomber - 1225 Christmas Tree Lane

“Before the children come out for the pageant, I’d like us all to look at the Christmas story again. For those of us who’ve grown up in the church, it’s become a familiar part of our lives. This evening, however, I want you to forget that you’re sitting on this side of history. Go back to the day the angel came to tell Mary she was about to conceive a child.”

He opened his Bible and read the well-known passages from the Book of Luke. “I want us to fully appreciate Mary’s faith,” he said, looking up. “The angel came to her and said she’d conceive a child by the Holy Spirit and she was to name him Jesus, which in those days was a common name.” He paused and gazed out at his congregation.

“Can you understand Mary’s confusion? What the angel told her was the equivalent of saying to a young woman in our times that she’s going to give birth to God’s son and she should name him Bob.”

The congregation smiled and a few people laughed outright.

“Remember, too,” Pastor Flemming continued, “that although Mary was engaged to Joseph, she remained with her family. This meant she had to tell her parents she was with child. That couldn’t have been easy.

“What do you think her mother and father thought? What if one of our daughters came to us and said she was pregnant? What if she claimed an angel had told her that the child had been conceived by the work of the Holy Spirit?” Again he paused, as if inviting everyone to join him in contemplating this scenario.

Pastor Flemming grinned. “Although I have two sons and no daughters, I know what I’d think. I’d assume that a teenage girl—or her boyfriend—would say anything to explain how this had happened.”

Most people in the congregation smiled and agreed with nodding heads. Grace cringed a little, remembering as vividly as ever the day she’d told her parents she was pregnant. She remembered their disappointment, their anger and, ultimately, their support. Then she thought of Mary Jo and turned to exchange a quick glance with Olivia.

“And yet,” the pastor went on, “this child, the very son of God, was growing inside her womb. Mary revealed remarkable faith, but then so did her family and Joseph, the young man to whom she was engaged.”

Something briefly distracted the pastor and he looked to his left. “I can see the children are ready and eager to begin their performance, so I won’t take up any more time. I do want to say this one thing, however. As a boy, I was given the role of a shepherd standing guard over his sheep when the angel came to announce the birth of the Christ Child. When I grew up, I chose, in a sense, the very same job—that of a shepherd. Every one of you is a member of my flock and I care for you deeply. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” the congregation echoed.

As he stepped down from the podium, the children took their positions on the makeshift stage. Grace moved right to the end of her pew to get a better view of the proceedings. Katie stood proudly in place, her gold wings jutting out from her small shoulders and her halo sitting crookedly atop her head. She couldn’t have looked more angelic if she’d tried.

Tyler had borrowed one of Cliff’s walking sticks to use as a staff. He was obviously still annoyed to be without his precious drum, glaring at the congregation as if to inform them that he was doing this under protest. Grace had to smother a laugh.

Oh, how Dan would’ve loved seeing his grandchildren tonight. Their grandson was like his grandfather in so many ways. A momentary sadness came over her and not wanting anyone to sense her thoughts, Grace looked away. She didn’t often think about Dan anymore. She’d loved her first husband, had two daughters with him, and through the years they’d achieved a comfortable life together.

But Dan had never been the same after Vietnam. For a lot of years, Grace had blamed herself and her own failings for his unhappiness. Dan knew that and had done his best to make things right in the letter he wrote her before his death.

Christmas Eve, however, wasn’t a night for troubled memories. The grandchildren Dan would never know were onstage, giving the performances of their young lives.

Out of the corner of her eye, Grace noticed Angel, the church secretary, rushing down the side aisle and toward the front. She went to the first pew, where Pastor Flemming sat with his wife, Emily.

Angel whispered something in his ear and the pastor nodded. He left with her. Apparently there was some sort of emergency.

“Look, there’s a star in the East,” Leif Gunderson, Olivia’s grandson, shouted. As one of the three Wise Men, he pointed at the church ceiling.

“Let us follow the star,” the second of the Wise Men called out.

It wasn’t until Cliff tapped her arm that she realized Angel was trying to get her attention. She stood in the side aisle and motioned with her finger for Grace to come out.

“What’s that about?” Cliff asked as she picked up her purse.

“I don’t know. I’ll tell you as soon as I find out.”

He nodded.

Grace hurried down the center aisle to the foyer, reaching it just as Angel did. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“It’s a miracle I was even in the office,” Angel said.

This confused Grace. “What do you mean?”

“For the phone call,” she explained. “I went to get a pair of scissors. Mrs. Murphy, the first-grade Sunday School teacher, needed scissors and I thought there was a pair in my desk.”

“The phone call,” Grace reminded her.

“Oh, yes, sorry. It was from some young firefighter.”

“Mack McAfee?” Grace blurted out.

“No, no, Brandon Hutton. At any rate, he wanted to speak to the pastor.”

“Has there been an accident?”

“No…I don’t know. I think it would be best if you talked to Pastor Flemming yourself. He asked me to get you.”

Dave Flemming was on the phone, a worried expression on his face. When he saw Grace, he held out the receiver. “You’d better take this.”

Grace dismissed her first fear, that there’d been an accident. Everyone she loved, everyone who was important to her here in Cedar Cove, was inside the church.

“This is Grace Harding,” she said into the receiver, her voice quavering slightly.

“Ms. Harding, this is EMT Hutton from the Kitsap County Fire District. We received a distress call from a young woman who’s currently at your home.”

Grace gasped. “Mary Jo? She’s still at the house? Is she all right?”

“I believe so, ma’am. However, she’s in labor and asking for you.”

“Won’t you be transporting her to the hospital? Shouldn’t I meet you there?” Grace would notify Cliff and they could leave together.

From the moment she’d left the house, some instinct had told her she should’ve stayed with Mary Jo. Some inner knowledge that said Mary Jo would be having her baby not in two weeks but now. Tonight.

“We won’t be transporting her, Ms. Harding.”

“Good heavens, why not?” Grace demanded, wondering if it was a jurisdictional matter. If so, she’d get Olivia involved.

“It appears Ms. Wyse is going to give birth imminently. We don’t have time to transport her.”

“She’s not alone, is she?”

“No, ma’am. EMT McAfee is with her.”

Mack. Thank goodness. “What about her brothers?” she asked. Surely they’d arrived by now.

“There’s no one else here, ma’am.”

Grace’s heart started to pound. “I’ll get there as quickly as possible.”

“One last thing,” Officer Hutton added. “Do you normally keep camels in your barn?”

“No. But be warned. She bites.”

“She’s already attempted to take a piece out of me. I managed to avoid it, though.”