the name of Lauren and Michael Thomas, just the two of them. No children yet. Oh, well, Edith assured herself, God was in control of the guest list, and it wasn’t for her to question.
But later in the afternoon she received a call from a woman named Leslie. “I have a child,” she began tentatively, “a five year old daughter. . . . I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s wonderful!” said Edith. “I was just hoping that someone would have children. It just feels more like Christmas with little ones around.”
“Her name is Megan, and she’s still having a hard time adjusting to the fact that her daddy left us more than a year ago. . . .”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. The guy was a total jerk. The only good thing he ever did for me was Megan. But for some reason she still thinks he’s the greatest and doesn’t understand why he can’t come spend Christmas with us. Anyway, I needed someplace to go . . . to get away from here, you know what I mean?”
“Well, you and Megan are more than welcome to make yourselves at home here,” said Edith.
“Great. I’m taking the whole week off, so I plan to drive over on Tuesday. Is that okay?”
“No problem.”
And so it was that all but one room was booked. Edith was busier than ever now, but it was just the way she liked it. Naturally, she’d sent her Christmas cards weeks ago and had, just last week, finished wrapping and shipping her children’s Christmas presents, but she still had plenty to do to make her guests feel completely welcome and at home here. She was just carrying a load of clean towels upstairs when she heard the doorbell ring. Setting the basket on a chair, she turned and hurried back down. Too early for guests to be arriving, thank goodness. She opened the door to see Olive Peters standing there.
“I tried to call, but your line was busy,” she explained. “I came to collect the costumes. We’re going to do a fitting this afternoon.”
Feeling more generous than the last time they’d talked, Edith offered to help her carry the boxes over to the church.
“Oh, I don’t want to bother you,” said Olive, impatiently looking at her watch. “And Helen promised to help me, but as usual, she’s late.”
“Why don’t I give you a hand?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got your hands full. Aren’t you busy getting ready for all those kids of yours to arrive?”
So Edith explained how things were going to be different this year.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” exclaimed Olive. “You and Charles must’ve lost your minds.”
Edith blinked. “Why—what do you mean?”
“Inviting a bunch of perfect strangers into your home during Christmas?”
“Well, I do run a bed and breakfast,” said Edith. “We’re accustomed to having strangers as guests—”
“But for Christmas, Edith?” Olive firmly shook her head. “It just sounds a little odd. Christmas is a time for friends and family. If you and Charles were going to be alone during the holidays, you should’ve told us. We would’ve gladly invited you over to our home. You shouldn’t be stuck here with a bunch of strangers.”
Edith forced what she hoped was a believable smile. “But that’s just it, Olive, we want to do this. Don’t you remember Charles’s midweek sermon about being hospitable? We wanted to open our home to people who don’t have a place to go during this time. We thought it would be fun.”
Olive pressed her lips together and studied Edith for a long moment. “Well, all I can say is that you two have a very strange idea of what constitutes fun . And I certainly hope that this whole crazy plan doesn’t backfire and blow up in your face.”
Just then Helen drove up, and Edith was relieved that she was now off the hook for helping Olive with the costumes. She led the two women up the two flights of stairs, then turned around in concern to Helen. “Oh, my, I hope this doesn’t hurt your hip,” she said. “I forgot all about your
But later in the afternoon she received a call from a woman named Leslie. “I have a child,” she began tentatively, “a five year old daughter. . . . I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s wonderful!” said Edith. “I was just hoping that someone would have children. It just feels more like Christmas with little ones around.”
“Her name is Megan, and she’s still having a hard time adjusting to the fact that her daddy left us more than a year ago. . . .”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. The guy was a total jerk. The only good thing he ever did for me was Megan. But for some reason she still thinks he’s the greatest and doesn’t understand why he can’t come spend Christmas with us. Anyway, I needed someplace to go . . . to get away from here, you know what I mean?”
“Well, you and Megan are more than welcome to make yourselves at home here,” said Edith.
“Great. I’m taking the whole week off, so I plan to drive over on Tuesday. Is that okay?”
“No problem.”
And so it was that all but one room was booked. Edith was busier than ever now, but it was just the way she liked it. Naturally, she’d sent her Christmas cards weeks ago and had, just last week, finished wrapping and shipping her children’s Christmas presents, but she still had plenty to do to make her guests feel completely welcome and at home here. She was just carrying a load of clean towels upstairs when she heard the doorbell ring. Setting the basket on a chair, she turned and hurried back down. Too early for guests to be arriving, thank goodness. She opened the door to see Olive Peters standing there.
“I tried to call, but your line was busy,” she explained. “I came to collect the costumes. We’re going to do a fitting this afternoon.”
Feeling more generous than the last time they’d talked, Edith offered to help her carry the boxes over to the church.
“Oh, I don’t want to bother you,” said Olive, impatiently looking at her watch. “And Helen promised to help me, but as usual, she’s late.”
“Why don’t I give you a hand?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got your hands full. Aren’t you busy getting ready for all those kids of yours to arrive?”
So Edith explained how things were going to be different this year.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” exclaimed Olive. “You and Charles must’ve lost your minds.”
Edith blinked. “Why—what do you mean?”
“Inviting a bunch of perfect strangers into your home during Christmas?”
“Well, I do run a bed and breakfast,” said Edith. “We’re accustomed to having strangers as guests—”
“But for Christmas, Edith?” Olive firmly shook her head. “It just sounds a little odd. Christmas is a time for friends and family. If you and Charles were going to be alone during the holidays, you should’ve told us. We would’ve gladly invited you over to our home. You shouldn’t be stuck here with a bunch of strangers.”
Edith forced what she hoped was a believable smile. “But that’s just it, Olive, we want to do this. Don’t you remember Charles’s midweek sermon about being hospitable? We wanted to open our home to people who don’t have a place to go during this time. We thought it would be fun.”
Olive pressed her lips together and studied Edith for a long moment. “Well, all I can say is that you two have a very strange idea of what constitutes fun . And I certainly hope that this whole crazy plan doesn’t backfire and blow up in your face.”
Just then Helen drove up, and Edith was relieved that she was now off the hook for helping Olive with the costumes. She led the two women up the two flights of stairs, then turned around in concern to Helen. “Oh, my, I hope this doesn’t hurt your hip,” she said. “I forgot all about your
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