Christmas Miracle

By Jay Donald Wiseman

Fourteen year old Rachel McTavish struggles to cope with Christmas after losing her mother the previous season, and though it is fraught with painful memories and challenges, a simple kindly gesture transcends into a miraculous confirmation of a sacred family tradition symbolizing the true meaning of Christmas.

It is about the eventual tragedy in all of our lives and the beauty of insightful hope anyone can gain with the miraculous true meaning of Christmas; allowing each of us to not only cope but to flourish.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9780996384612

Book preview

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Acknowledgment

First and foremost to my wife Barbara, who is willing to surrender into the pursuance of my dreams with her never ending support. I would also like to thank Richard Peterson for his genuine concern as he allowed me to exploit his editing and writing skills which gave me insightful direction. I would also like to thank my good friends and family members for further corrections and polishing touches.

While this book is wholly a work of fiction-as are its characters-the experiences are taken from mine and my wife’s experiences along with the experiences of our friends and family. I am grateful for these experiences as they open windows of understanding in dealing with life’s challenges.

Preface

Spiritual insights are the stardust of the eternities which give evidence of the truth and power from which they come. What greater witness can we ask than a witness from that Great Supreme Being of Creation of which all things testify?

It is my wish that all who read this story will take note of the sometimes small witnesses that happen in all of our lives and give significance to their importance. The events that followed the first Christmas will forever have effect on our lives, and it behooves each of us to learn of our Savior and receive of his way.

Chapter 1

Fourteen-year-old Rachel McTavish and her little brother, Ben, were home alone in a drafty old house in the village of King’s Park on Long Island, New York. It was Christmas Eve, 1942, a Tuesday that year, and they were waiting for their father, Donald, to come home from New York City where he needed to attend a training meeting as he was being schooled to become the local bank manager. He hadn’t expected to go into the city for a meeting that day, he planned on doing the last minute shopping, but he received a call  to attend an unforeseen meeting that was mandatory. As he was leaving that morning to drive to the commuter train station he promised the kids he would be home as soon as possible. He also whispered to Rachel that he would be bringing with him the Christmas presents. 

It was 5:30 P.M. later on that day and snow had begun falling from the gathering of black clouds that made it darker than usual for that time of day. The area where they lived was still largely rural and the falling snow flakes were highlighted by the lone street light just down the lane from their house. A stiff wind drove some of the snowflakes sideways, but they were plenty others beginning to add a fresh white blanket on top of the existing dingy snow. It was also starting to stick to the boughs of the dark forest of trees across the graveled country road.

Rachel’s brow was wrinkled as she contemplated some of the problems that could arise from the storm in their dads efforts to get back home on time as she opened a can of soup and made some toast to go with it for dinner. Then, after she had cleared the table and done the dishes, she turned on the radio to pass the time. It was a late model, polished wood Philco set and the only new piece of furniture in the house. She and Ben listened to a report on Santa’s progress from the North Pole. She knew it wasn’t a real report but watched Ben’s eyes widened as he pictured the flight of the sleigh and reindeer. Being in the middle of a snow storm only added to the believability of Santa and his Reindeer. Ben was seven years old and on the verge of not believing in Santa Claus, but this close to the great day he surrendered again to the childhood fantasy. They also listened to another of Gabriel Heatter’s pessimistic reports about the progress of the war The United States forces and the Allies are not doing well, either in the Pacific or European theaters, came rasping out of the radio from the static of a weak signal, because of the storm. Rachel was old enough to be frightened by the war. She could easily imagine German soldiers with their rifles and wearing those long woolen coats and scary helmets, marching down the dark road outside their house. This made her want to check outside through the windows just to calm her imagination, so she cautiously, but deftly stepped over to the window trying to not draw