THE CHRISTMAS PAINTING

Christmas story

The Christmas Painting
 

Tomorrow was Christmas and she didn’t have the courage to tell her children the truth. She looked out her window and saw the neighbors unloading not ONE but TWO Christmas trees. Why would anyone need two Christmas trees?? She pulled the curtains shut, not wanting to be reminded of what she didn’t have. As the evening grew late, she sat and read the traditional Christmas bible story to David and Crystal. Then they sang songs and drank hot chocolate. At least they would have happy Christmas eve memories. Finally, it was bedtime. April knelt with each child as they said their bedtime prayers. ‘Bless mommy and Baby Jesus. And please help Santa find our house.’ Oh, the faith of children. Again, she was alone in the dark with only her wishes, her paints and her canvases. She could hear her neighbors as they laughed outside. She peeked out the window and watched as they unloaded one gift after another from their car. She closed the curtain again as the tears streamed down her face. All she needed was one painting worth a thousand...a thousand pennies would be enough....if only.... April's Christmas Painting She pulled out her canvas and brushes from the place they were hidden away. Determined, she set up her easel, she would paint a bright Christmas day. Money was so very tight that year, but her children still needed her care. She thought if she’d just paint that picture, she’d awake to find Christmas cheer. ‘Till the wee hours of morn she labored, ‘till exhausted, collapsed in her bed. In dreams she could see her painting, and sugar plums danced in her head. She awoke to a bright Christmas morn, afraid still of what she would find. But then she heard squeals of laughter, “Could the fates have really been kind?” There in the room where she’d painted, stood a tree filled with candy and lights. It seems that her work came to life sometime in the dark quiet night. Presents wrapped up with bright ribbons, lay neatly beneath the trees boughs. This mother had tears in her eyes, her prayers had been answered, somehow. © Forrest Phelps-Cook