The Christmas Box by Richard Paul Evans Read Free Book Online Page A

me.
    "Who was buried there?" I asked.
    "Come see," he said, motioning m e o ver.
    I followed him over to the statue. W e s quatted down and I brushed th e s now away from the base of the monument. Etched in the marble pedestal , above the birth and death dates, wer e j ust three words:

OUR LITTLE ANGEL
    I studied the dates. "The child wa s o nly three years old," I said sadly. I closed my eyes and imagined th e s cene. I could see the woman, we t a nd cold, her hands red and snow bitten. And then I understood. "It was Mary, wasn't it?"
    His response was slow and melancholy. "Yes. It was Mary."
    The falling snow painted a dream-
    like backdrop of solitude around us.
    It seemed a long while before Stev e b roke the silence. "That night I told m y m other what I had seen. I thought that I would probably get in trouble. Instea d s he pulled me close and kissed me.
    She said that I should never go back , that we should leave the woma n a lone. Until now, I never did go back.
    At least not to the grave. I did com e c lose enough to hear her crying , though. It would tear me up inside. Fo r o ver two years she came here ever y d ay, even in spring when the pourin g r ain turned the ground to mud."
    I turned away from the angel, thrus t m y hands in my coat pockets, an d s tarted back in silence. We walke d t he entire distance to the hous e b efore either one of us spoke. Stev e s topped at his back porch.
    "The child was a little girl. He r n ame was Andrea. For many years Mary placed a wooden box on th e g rave. It resembles the boxes th e w ise men carry in Nativity scenes. M y g uess is it's the box you found wit h t he letters."
    I mumbled a thank you and heade d f or home alone. I unlocked the heavy THE CHRISTMAS B o x f ront door and pushed it open. A dar k s ilence permeated the mansion. I climbed the stairs to our quarters an d t hen the attic, and for the first time I brought the Christmas Box out int o t he light. I set it on the hall floor an d s at down beside it. In the light, I coul d s ee the truly exquisite craftsmanshi p o f the box. The high polish reflecte d o ur surroundings and distorted th e i mages, giving a graceful halo to th e r eflected objects. I removed the las t l etter.
    December 6, 1920
    My Beloved One.
    How I wish that I might say these things to your gentle face and that this box might be found empty. Even as the mother of our Lord found the tomb they placed him in empty. And in this there i s h ope, my love. Hope of embracing yo u a gain and holding you to my breast. An d t his because of the great gift of Christmas. Because He came. The first Christmas offering from a parent to Hi s c hildren, because He loved them an d w anted them back. I understand that i n w ays I never understood before, as m y l ove for you has not waned with time , but has grown brighter with each Christmas season. How I look forward to tha t g lorious day that I hold you again. I lov e y ou, my little angel.

Mother

    Chapter VI

THE ANGEL
    I set the lette r b ack in the box and pulled my knee s i nto my chest, burying my head int o m y thighs. My mind reeled as if in a d ream, where pieces of the day's puzzle are unraveled and rewoven into a n ew mosaic, defying the improbabilit y o f the cut edges fitting. Yet they did fit.
    The meaning of Mary's question wa s n ow clear to me. The first gift of Christmas. The true meaning of Christmas.
    My body and mind tingled with the revelations of the day. Downstairs I hear d t he rustling of Keri's return. I walke d d own and helped her in.
    "I came back to get Jenna som e d inner," she said, falling into my arms.
    "I am so exhausted," she cried. "An d s o sad."
    I held her tightly. "How is she?"
    "Not very good."
    "Why don't you lie down, I'll put o n s ome soup and get Jenna ready fo r b ed."
    Keri stretched out on the sofa while I dressed Jenna, fed her, then carrie d h er downstairs to the den.
    It was dark outside, and in absenc e o f a fire, the room was bathed by th e p