Black Lace And Other Short Stories

Christmas

Christmas

Jenna ran across the yard, her boots making prints in the fresh-fallen snow. Above her, the sky was painted a beautiful pinky-red. The sun was beginning to make its nightly fall past the horizon and Jenna knew that she had to get home before it was completely dark. It was Christmas Eve and her family was waiting. Finally she got to her door, smiling as she smelled the sweet scent of gingerbread and hot cocoa, of love and happiness. Her mother’s voice rang out, singing about Christmases long, long ago. Jenna ran upstairs to her room to grab her gifts for her family. Coming out of her room she heard a small noise above her. Slowly she got the step ladder out of the closet and opened the trapdoor to the small attic. It was filled with brown boxes that held her parents childhood memories. She crept through the maze of forgotten memories, old photos and empty dreams. Suddenly she saw a toy nutcracker, bearded and covered in dust. A tag read To Clara, with love, Your Uncle. Jenna grinned. Clara, her mother, had been lamenting the loss of her nutcracker for years. She picked it up and dusted it off. I seemed almost as if it came to life with the removal of the gray dust. It seemed as if it had a new sparkle in its painted eyes. Lovingly, Jenna brushed its bedraggled hair and walked out of the attic. Picking up her presents, she stated walking. At the landing she paused and turned. For half a second she thought that there was a faint smell of sugar plums in the air. Shaking her head, she continued down the kitchen.