The Secret of Christmas
Lies not in things you give
Or to whom you give them;
But in the unconditional love you show
And to whom you show it
I Corinthians 13:13
But now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; and the greatest of these is love.
The Secret of Christmas
"Michael, get the baby, would you darling?" Sarah was frazzled beyond reckoning, trying to get the stew cooked, laundry washed and put away, and sit down to the following week's lesson plans for Cedar Grove High School's biology classes. The biology teacher had fallen and broken his arm, and would be out until after Christmas break.
Speaking of Christmas, it was only two weeks off, and Sarah had no idea what to get for Michael. She'd found a lovely series of books for Jim and several things for her brother Johnathan and his wife Eva, as well as their two girls, Ruth and Laura. But nothing for her husband.
Sarah heard no reply to her request, only a continually screeching infant, and glanced up from the stove. She was getting fed up. Turning the flame of the stove down, Sarah hurried into the hallway and dashed up the stairs. Pushing her daughter's bedroom door all the way open, she entered and immediately went to the crib, bending down to pick Mikayla up.
"There, there, sweetie. Mommy's here." Mikayla's cloth diaper was heavy under her long, warm night dress, and she hadn't eaten since before her nap earlier that afternoon. Sarah put her daughter up to her shoulder and carried the infant into her and Michael's room, laying her down on the bed to change her.
Just as Sarah was finishing up, she heard Michael clambering hurriedly up the stairs. He poked his head into the bedroom. "Sarah, honey, something's burning in the oven."
Sarah let out an exasperated, annoyed sigh. "Where were you?" she asked, handing him the baby as she flew out the door.
When Sarah got into the kitchen, she felt like ripping her hair out. The roast was dry and stiff as a board, and the smoke was rancid. "There goes the stew. God, could this day get any worse?"
Michael had followed her in. "Darling, why don't we just go over to Jim's diner tonight? He's been asking to see Mikayla again."
His wife was moodily dumping the roast bit by bit into the garbage can. "What did you do with Mikayla? And like I asked before, where have you been?"
"Sweetheart, didn't you hear me when I said I had to run out and that I'd be back shortly? And Mikayla's in her swing for the moment." He walked over to her, taking the knife from her hand and turning her around by the shoulders. He made her look into his eyes. Sarah melted at his tenderness, allowing him to kiss her gently and repeatedly, drawing closer and wrapping her arms around him.
"I'm sorry, Michael, I'm not myself today. I've got so much on my mind." She glanced around the kitchen. "Get Mikayla bundled up, grab a few bottles for her, and I'll make myself presentable."
Sarah glanced up from Mikayla, whom she was breastfeeding, when Michael entered their bedroom, fresh from his shower. "You look cozy, darling. More than I could say." She smiled gently, tiredness evident in her deep blue eyes.
"Oh, I do think I am." Michael was grinning at his daughter. He came over and dropped a kiss on his wife's head, commenting, "Isn't she beautiful? All that eating sure pays off. Especially when her mother's such a beauty."
Sarah laughed. "Oh, Michael, do be quiet." She looked down at her baby. "She's perfect." Touching her little nose softly, she looked up at Michael and pulled him closer with her free hand, kissing him. "I only wish I had some more time to spend with you. Classes have been so rushed. The usual holiday cramming to get tests in before vacation." Seeing that Mikayla was full and drowsy, Sarah pulled her robe over herself completely, standing up.
"Sweetheart, let me. Go take a shower." Michael took Mikayla from her, looking pointedly in the direction of the bathroom.
"I'll do so without complaint."
"Smart girl." Michael grinned at his wife, taking the baby to her room.
Sarah curled up next to Michael, who was reading a book. "Better, Sarah Louise?" He took her hand and rubbed it, smiling at her.
She sighed contentedly, saying, "Much." She inched closer to him, nuzzling his bare arm with her nose. "What do you want for Christmas this year, darling?" She closed her eyes, relaxed and mellow.
"I thought we agreed not to get anything for each other?" Michael put his book down, rubbing Sarah's back.
"Oh, Michael, honestly! Do give me some ideas."
"Why should I tell you to get me something I don't want, when I have everything I could possibly ever need?"
"Because I said so." Sarah ran her fingers lightly over his forehead, kissing him tenderly on the mouth, running her hands through his hair.
Michael could only drink in Sarah's taste feel and touch, murmuring, "If everything else you've already given me isn't enough, sweetie, then this most certainly is."
Laughter purred in Sarah's throat. "Sometimes I'd just like to kill you, did you know that?" She was smiling, blue eyes dancing. "Anyways, Michael, I think it's time you turned off the light. I have one last hectic day tomorrow before I have to play babysitter to a bunch of teenagers while they take their exams." She settled down next to him, hands folded over her stomach. Her eyebrows were knit together thoughtfully, and she turned to look at her husband. "What're the chances of Mikayla sleeping through the night?"
Michael flipped off the light next to his bedside table, then twisted around to give Sarah her goodnight kiss. "None."
"That's what I thought." She slipped Michael's hand in hers, whispering, "Good night, darling."
Michael blew in the living room, forcing the front door shut against the bitter cold and persistent, strong winds. Sarah was walking quietly back into the living room after putting Mikayla to bed, unwrapping her scarf from her neck and unbuttoning her coat. Her hair was blown all over the place, quite awry, and her cheeks were flushed from cold. Michael grinned at her appearance. "You don't know just how appealing you look to me, Sarah Louise."
Sarah looked up from her hands, which she was rubbing together. "Would I be any more appealing to you if I ran my freezing hands down your neck, up and down your arms, then made you get a fire going in the fireplace?"
"Possibly."
"Oh, really?" Sarah had an amused smile on her face. "How about if I did that right now?"
Michael sidestepped his wife, laughing. "Perhaps after I start a fire?"
"Or perhaps," Sarah made a grab at Michael, murmuring as she kissed him, "Right now." Her chilled fingers running down the nape of his neck caused him to shiver. "Hot cocoa sound good?"
"In warm, bulky sweaters, with a fire roaring at our feet? Next to the woman of my life? Wild horses couldn't drag me away."
The fire was crackling merrily, living room toasty warm. Sarah snuggled up closer to Michael, mug of homemade hot cocoa in her hands, head resting on his shoulder. "We're going to get snowed in. Good thing we left Johnathan and Eva's place when we did." Sarah's voice was quiet and soothing.
"I have you to thank for that, sweetheart. Motherly instincts or something?" He wrapped one arm around Sarah's shoulders, keeping her close to him, feet up on the coffee table.
"Perhaps." Sarah nipped at her husband's ear. "But then, Ruth did have a cold. How many new mothers like their baby in an environment with sickness for very long?"
"Well, regardless of the reason, I'm glad we did. Open this, Sarah Louise."
"What?" Sarah looked quizzically at her husband, then looked down to his lap. "Oh, Michael..." She carefully picked up the small, black velvet-covered box and snapped it open. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the ring. It was a gorgeous sapphire color, the exact shade of her eyes.
"For your beautiful eyes, which never fail to captivate me, and the engagement ring you never did get."
"Michael...It's gorgeous!" She slipped it onto her left middle finger. It fit perfectly. Eyes glistening, she murmured, "What happened to no presents for each other?"
"Sarah, in the six years that I've known you, three that we've been engaged, and pushing two married, you've given me so much more than I've ever deserved in my life. You've loved me through everything we've been through together, refusing to leave my side. And six months ago, you gave me the most precious gift you could ever give me: our daughter. You've loved me unconditionally, and I want you to know I'll always, always love you."
"Oh, my love...Thank you." Sarah wiped her eyes, smiling.
Michael simply turned her chin towards him, looking deep into her eyes. "Merry Christmas, Sarah Louise."
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