Barbara doesn't care about a White Christmas. |
My husband Stephen died three years ago, a week before Christmas. His car skidded on Monument Hill Road. A bracelet engraved "Barbara" was retrieved from the wreck by volunteer firemen. I was grateful for my last gift from Stephen. Even though Holiday Seasons can be beautiful, I've been unable to appreciate them. There'd be a white Christmas this year; heavy snow. I searched "Angie's List" for snowplowing, turning up "Herman's Landscaping and Snow Plowing." After plowing, the driver came to the door. His name tag said "Herman." "I'm Mrs. McCann. You must be the owner?" "Herman George." A warm smile. "Owner or not, in a storm like this, we're all out plowing." "Some Christmas lights would really sparkle on this," Herman said, waving at the snow. My house was the only undecorated one on the street. I just closed the door. There was no letup to the storm, so Herman was back the next day. Part way through plowing, he left for a half hour. After returning and finishing, he knocked on the door again. "Sorry for the delay. I was responding as a volunteer fireman." Again a warm smile. "I have some extra lights that I'd be happy to put up for you." I slammed the door that time. Then a third day. After plowing, I saw him making a snow sculpture in the huge piles he'd plowed up. After I'd been so rude! Opening the door, I asked "Would you like to warm up with coffee, freshly made?" Reaching across the kitchen table, I introduced myself, "Barbara." "I made the connection," Herman said. "I'm sorry for your loss. But, I'm also happy that I was able to retrieve the bracelet you're wearing." He did have a warm smile. Maybe Holiday Seasons can begin to look better to me. |