Christmas Trio B. Debbie Macomber

Leif had gotten the coveted role of one of the three Wise Men.

      As soon as Olivia saw Grace, she edged out of her pew and went to see her friend. Olivia had wrapped a red silk scarf around her shoulders, over her black wool coat. Despite everything she’d endured, she remained the picture of dignity and elegance.

      She leaned toward Grace. “How’s Mary Jo?” she asked in a whisper.

      Grace shrugged. “I left her at the house by herself, and now I wish I hadn’t. Oh,” she added, “apparently her brothers are in town….”

      “Problems?”

      Grace quickly shook her head. “Mary Jo actually seemed relieved to hear from them.”

      “Is she going home to Seattle with her family, then?” Olivia stepped sideways in the aisle to make room for a group of people trying to get past.

      Grace nodded.

      “How did they find out she was with you?” Olivia asked.

      “They tracked her down through Mack McAfee. He phoned the house and talked to her. Then Mary Jo spoke with her oldest brother and decided it would be best to go back to Seattle.” Grace had been with her at the time and was struck by the way Mary Jo’s spirits had lifted. Whether that was because of her brothers or because of Mack … Grace tended to think it was the latter.

      “Mack appeared to have a calming effect on her when I saw them at the library,” Olivia said, echoing Grace’s thoughts.

      “I noticed it after she got off the phone, too. I gather he suggested she should go home with her brothers.”

      “I’m glad,” Olivia said. “For her own sake and theirs. And for Mom and Ben’s …” She paused. “As necessary as it is for them to know about this baby, I’d rather it didn’t happen the second they got home.”

      “Her real fear was that her brothers were going to burst onto the scene and demand that David do the so-called honorable thing.”

      “David and the word honor don’t belong in the same sentence,” Olivia said wryly.

      “Mary Jo’s brothers were arriving any minute. I’d like to have met them. Or at least talked to them.” Grace would’ve phoned the house, but by now Mary Jo should be well on her way to Seattle.

      Olivia straightened. “We’ll catch up after the service,” she said and returned to the opposite pew, beside Jack.

      No sooner had Olivia sat down than Pastor Flemming stepped up to the podium. He seemed to be … at peace. Relaxed, yet full of energy and optimism. The worry lines were gone from his face. Grace knew this had been a difficult year for the pastor and his wife, and she was glad their problems had been resolved.

      “Merry Christmas,” he said, his voice booming across the church.

      “Merry Christmas,” the congregation chanted.

      “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, taking part in a Christmas pageant just like this, 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 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