Little Christmas Miracles. Barbara Hannay

Let’s go down to breakfast at once.”

      “Wait a minute. Isn’t that the shirt you wore yesterday?”

      “Yeah, but I wanted to hurry. It was closest.”

      “I think you need to change shirts.”

      “But, Molly, it’s hard work changing shirts.”

      “I’m here to help you.”

      The little boy turned back into his room. “Okay,” he said slowly, indicating how little he liked what he had to do.

      It actually didn’t take that long, but they were the last ones down for breakfast. Molly hadn’t thought about the fact that Richard would be there. He and Elizabeth were sitting at the breakfast table, enjoying pancakes.

      “Good morning, dear,” Elizabeth said at once. “You, too, Molly. How are you today?”

      “I’m fine, Elizabeth. I’m sorry if we’re late.”

      “Nonsense, there’s no set time for breakfast, especially not on the weekends.”

      “Delores?” Richard called. “You’ve got two hungry customers.”

      “You want more, Richard?” Delores asked, coming to the door. “Oh, you mean Toby and Molly. I’ll have your plates right out.”

      “Thank you, Delores,” Molly called.

      “That looks really good,” Toby said, staring at his grandmother’s plate.

      When Elizabeth started to offer him a bite, Molly said, “No, Elizabeth, don’t offer him any. He needs to learn to wait for his food. Or maybe he should learn to fix his own breakfast. It would teach him to be patient.”

      “Oh, don’t go that far, Molly. If you do, I’ll have to make mine, too. I’d feel spoiled if I didn’t at least do as much as Toby.” Richard smiled at the little boy.

      Toby giggled. “That would be funny, wouldn’t it, Uncle Richard?”

      “Yes, it definitely would. And Delores would kill us for messing up her kitchen.”

      “What are you talking about?” Delores demanded as she came through the door. “Who’s going to mess up my kitchen?”

      “I was wondering if maybe we could make Christmas cookies one afternoon, Delores,” Molly hurriedly said. “But I promise we’d clean up after ourselves.”

      “Ah, you are a sweet lady, Molly. I guess Toby would like to do that, wouldn’t you?”

      “It would be fun. I—I used to do that with my mommy,” Toby said.

      Delores smiled at him. “Of course you can make cookies. I’ll help and do the cleaning up myself.”

      “Thank you, Delores,” Molly said softly.

      Then Delores set two plates on the table, stacked high with pancakes. “Eat up so you can grow to be a big boy like Richard.”

      Molly laughed. “But I don’t want to be a big boy, Delores. Why did I get so many?”

      “So you can keep up with both of them.” Delores went back to the kitchen, laughing.

      “That’ll teach you to challenge Delores,” Richard said. “I learned that lesson long ago.”

      “I’m afraid he’s right, dear,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “She rules this house.”

      Having taken her first bite of delicious pancakes, Molly said, “I can see why.”

      “They’re good, aren’t they?” Richard asked.

      “The best I’ve ever tasted. Do you know how she makes them, Elizabeth?”

      “No, she won’t tell me. She doesn’t want me in her kitchen cooking breakfast.”

      After Molly turned to her pancakes, Toby said, “We forgot to decorate the tree last night.” He looked at his grandmother, as if knowing he’d get support from her.

      “I know, Toby. I realized it last night as I got into bed. But it was too late then. Is this morning all right?”

      “Sure. Want to go now?”

      “I think you should finish your breakfast first,” Richard said, enjoying his second cup of coffee.

      “Oh. I don’t think I can finish all of them.”

      “Well, Molly has to finish hers.” He shot her a twinkling look. “If she wants to keep up with us.”

      “Be careful, Richard,” Elizabeth called as she stared at her son on the top of a stepladder. Toby and Molly were holding their breaths, too, as Richard put the angel on top of the nine-foot tree.

      “I’m fine, Mom. Don’t worry. Albert, is that straight?”

      “Yes, sir, it sure is. Good job.”

      “Thanks. I’d rather you be up here instead of me, but Toby insisted.”

      “Yes, sir, I slipped him a fiver,” Albert said with a laugh.

      “What’s a fiver, Molly?” Toby asked.

      “He’s teasing, sweetie. He’s saying he gave you money to get Richard up on the top of the ladder instead of him.”

      “But I don’t have any money—” Toby said.

      Molly hushed him at once. “He’s just teasing.”

      “But—”

      Clearly the explanation wasn’t working, so Molly tried a diversion. “Have you picked out the first ornament you want to hang, Toby?”

      That distracted him, and Molly breathed a sigh of relief. The boy immediately turned to the table with all the decorations. She held her breath, wondering which he would choose. The last Christmas she shared with her parents was the only one she remembered. She’d hung the first ornament, a clear glass ball with the manger scene on it.

      Toby had chosen one remarkably like it.

      When he picked up that particular ornament, Molly sank her teeth in her lips to keep control of her emotion. Twenty years later and she still got emotional about the holidays.

      “You might as well hand me some of the ornaments, Molly, before I get down off this ladder,” Richard said.

      “All right.” She picked up several balls and handed them to Richard.

      “One at a time, Molly,” Richard said, handing back one of the ornaments.

      Which meant she was stuck handing balls to him. Elizabeth and Toby were handling the rest of the tree. Molly said nothing, doing as Richard asked. But she’d hoped to do some decorating herself. She wanted ownership in this tree, too. It had been so long since she’d celebrated a Christmas so gloriously.

      “Richard, that’s enough balls up there. Come down off the ladder and let Molly hang some of the ornaments, too.”

      “Sorry, Molly, I didn’t think. I would’ve been glad to trade places with you.”

      “No, thank you,” she hurriedly said, adding in a low voice, “I’m afraid of heights.”

      “Really?” Richard asked in surprise.

      “Yes, really.”

      “Here, I’ll hand you ornaments, how about that?”

      “It’s not necessary, Richard. Toby’s the one who needs to decorate the tree.” She didn’t want anyone to know how important decorating the tree was to her. Several years, she’d considered buying a big tree just because she’d enjoy decorating it, but she’d talked herself out of it. Money hadn’t been plentiful, and in the past couple of years, she’d found other ways of celebrating Christmas. But this year—

      “But