Did you catch the blog feature on Libby Drew's story, The Art of Walking in Snow, on Monday? Go download the banner if you want to share you love for this short story. If you haven't read it yet, well, why not? I'm featuring this excerpt because it reminds me SO much of all the years we took our kids out to cut down our own tree. The cold, the cocoa, the fun of picking just the right one... it's definitely Christmas! But this story goes so much deeper than that, so much more into what the season can truly mean if we open our hearts to those around us. 

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“I remember the first time we went out and cut ours down.”

“Oh?” John tugged at his second glove. “Was it fun?”

It had been everything an eight-year-old could’ve hoped for. The pang in Jamie’s chest held less bite this time, but still stole his breath. “Yeah. It was fun,” he said, choking up on the last word. A mouthful of scalding coffee helped to open his throat. He blinked at his shoes until the memory faded and died.

The sign with its rows and rows of trees. The cheery house with candles in the windows.

On second thought, coming here had been a terrible idea. He swallowed the last of the coffee and handed the cup back. John accepted it without a word. Clearing his throat, Jamie reached for the backpack he’d set beside him. “Thanks for that. You know what, though, I think—” He sidestepped toward the door.

“Jamie.”

Jamie flinched. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

“Jamie, stop.”

The tone held the perfect blend of authority and kindness. Jamie froze, hand on the knob. 

 

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