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Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1730464
The Writers Cramp Entry
The wind was fierce; howling louder than a newborn as Jessica pulled the heavy oak door closed behind her. The snow had stopped falling a couple of hours earlier, but a sudden sharp gust blew the small crystal flakes through the door just before it shut, blinding Jessica for a moment as they went swirling to the floor below.

She had decided to get caught up on some of her Sunday school duties before the next day’s events began. A teacher by profession, Jessica had been working with children most of her life, first as a camp counsellor through high school and college and then later as a teacher with the public school system. When she moved to the small eastern town of Strathville four years ago and was looking for a volunteer opportunity, the opening for a Sunday School Co-ordinator for the local church seemed to fit the bill.

Jessica hung up her coat on the hallway rack and headed downstairs to the church library where her office was located. She liked that she sat amongst the books; it gave her more opportunity to talk to the congregation members or work with the children that took the time to visit the library. The Sunday school itself was held across the hall in the large room off the kitchen.

Along with going over the script for the Christmas play the youth group was performing this year, she wanted to do a final tally of the Sunday school donations received over the past few months. The kids had been collecting and fund raising since the summer and the group had yet to decide how to use this year’s contributions. She unlocked the cabinet where both the donation box and church supplies were kept but at first glance did not see the gray metal box that contained the results of all their hard work.

She went from shelf to shelf, moving papers, books, and pens to see if the box had been misplaced or stashed away on one of the other shelves. Jessica was starting to feel a slight panic begin to build as the box failed to materialize.

“It has to be here somewhere,” she muttered to herself as she removed some of the larger objects and placed them on her desk, giving her a clearer view into the cabinet.

Returning the cabinet contents she searched every drawer in the desk and went over the bookshelves with a fine tooth comb just in case someone had placed it somewhere else by mistake.

It was missing. Vanished. The donation box was gone, as would be their chance to do something good with the money this year. Jessica wanted to cry she was so disappointed. There were only a few people with access to the cabinet and all she could think of was that it had been left unlocked at some point in error and someone took the box. The thought made her sick.

The sound of the library door opening caused her to jump and turn around. She wasn’t sure what to expect but it sure wasn’t the picture that greeted her; her eighteen-year-old youth assistant and two of the younger youth group members laughing and carrying multiple shopping bags and brightly wrapped packages.

“Oh, you startled me Heidi. What are you doing here? And what’s with all the bags and Christmas gifts?”

“I didn’t know you were going to be here today,” Heidi said with surprise.

“I came in to catch up on some work. Heidi, the donation box is missing, I can’t find it anywhere.”

“I’ve got it. Didn’t you read my note?”

“What note? Why do you have it?”

“I left a note on your desk yesterday afternoon so you’d see it Sunday when you arrived.”

“There’s nothing here,” Jessica said, glancing at the desk. “Oh wait,” she continued, as she picked up the books she had brought in with her earlier. “Here it is. I’m so sorry; I didn’t even see it there.” She pulled out a somewhat sloppy hand-written note feeling a bit foolish that she hadn’t noticed it when she arrived.

Heidi smiled, “Never mind the note, it was pretty brief anyway and doesn’t give all the details, just that I’ve got the box for a good cause. We were saving the best part of the story. Shall we tell her?” Heidi asked the two nodding bright faces standing beside her.

“You know how you said it was up to the youth group to decide what to do with the donations this year? Well, we wanted to surprise you and we had a secret meeting after classes two Sunday’s ago. There were a lot of good ideas: the food bank, donate to a charity, donate to an orphanage, animal rescue places. But Sally here,” she nodded at the small redhead beside her, “suggested adopting a family. And everyone agreed. So we made a few calls and got some help from the minister and church secretary, sworn to secrecy, of course. And made our shopping list. And voila,” she added, holding up the bags. “Here we are. We all agreed that every family should be able to have a nice Christmas and we wanted to help one family do just that.”

Jessica was speechless. Partly because she was afraid if she said anything she might cry. And partly because she was so surprised and proud of what these children had accomplished on their own.

“I hope you’re not upset Jess, we were going to tell you tomorrow when the entire class was together. We do have a bit more shopping to do though, so we’ll let you come along next time if you like.”

“I’m not upset at all. I’m very proud of what you have done and I love your idea and yes, I’d also love to go shopping with you. But don’t give me any more information; I’d like to hear it tomorrow morning according to your original plan when the entire class is together.”
© Copyright 2010 cheryl losch (closch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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