Missing Faces

Very short story.

Last Christmas was so different. Katie leaned her forehead against the cold glass of the dining room window, struggling to control the tears that wanted to slip out. “There are others to think of,” she reminded herself. With a sigh, she turned to face the room. The dining table was set with the China Lou had bought for her on a whim while they were in Hawaii, the sparkling holly-sprigged glasses Mark had found for her when he’d braved the after-Christmas crowds that year they’d celebrated their 35th anniversary, the linens her mother had left her when she’d passed on just two years past. Another sigh was cut short, and she turned to her kitchen where last-minute preparations were waiting.

She opened the cabinet, her hand automatically reaching for the stool that stood nearby. Lou had been tall enough to reach into the high shelves. Last year he’d teased her as he lifted down the tureen she needed now. How they’d enjoyed working together. How empty life seemed without him.

“Stop this! she chided herself. He’s gone; yet she knew she was never alone. “Oh, dear Lord, what would I do without Your Presence every day?” She also had four wonderful children, and their lovely offspring, her own grandchildren, hers and Mark’s. Mark was gone. Lou was gone, too. And Mom. She closed her eyes for a moment and looked deep into her heart.

“I miss them,” Katie reflected, “But the joy isn’t gone with them. It still hurts. I miss Mom’s cheerful smile.” And after all these years, her love for Mark was still there. When she’d met Lou she’d felt guilty for falling so easily into love. He told her it was easy because she’d been loved well. It was a good thought. Now they were both gone and some days the years ahead looked long and bleak. But today her family would need her and she would not disappoint them.

The sound of the front door opening, followed by happy laughter, brought her out of her reverie. Susan and her family were arriving; James would be close behind. Lisa and Matt and their families would be just pulling into town. Oh, thank You, Lord, she breathed, deliberately storing away the memories, setting aside the sadness. Katie beamed, hugging each child as they bounced into the warm house. Thank You for this chatter and laughter and excitement. For happy smiles and children’s voices. Christmas isn’t so very different after all! Faces are missing, yes, but the joy of the season is still here. Because You are still here. Merry Christmas, Jesus.