The Last Christmas Gift

Macy signed in with the receptionist and walked in the nursing home, proudly clutching a beautifully wrapped present. It was January 2, a bit late to deliver a Christmas present but Mrs. Reynolds had been out of town visiting her family for the past two weeks. Mrs. Reynolds had been her grandmother’s roommate at the nursing home. Grandma died a year and a half ago, but Macy still visited Mrs. Reynolds every Friday afternoon.

“Mrs. Reynolds?” she said, shaking the rain off her heavy coat. Mrs. Reynolds turned from the window.

“Come in child!” she said, rolling her wheelchair toward Macy for a hug.

Macy blushed. “Merry Christmas! I know it’s late, but I missed you before the holidays.”

“Thank you!” Mrs. Reynolds said, tearing off the wrapping to reveal a devotional book. She smiled. “Is this the one your story is published in?”

Macy nodded. “It sure is. I’m sorry it’s not more. I wish we could have given better presents this year.”

“This is perfect. I don’t have much need for nick knacks anymore. Besides, I understand. Young newlyweds don’t have much money to spare. I’m sure every gift you gave was appreciated well beyond it’s monetary value. By the way, how’s Jeremy? And how are you here so early?”

“Jeremy is home sick with a sinus infection, and I had the day off. They closed the office between Christmas and January 5. The owner said it didn’t make sense to open for one day this week, especially during the slow time of year.” Macy worked as a secretary for a landscape company. She gazed out the window. “They wouldn’t have any work on a cold, rainy day like this. I wish it would snow. This rain is depressing.”

Mrs. Reynolds patted her arm. “Do I sense the post holiday blues?”

Macy smiled and sat in the chair beside the bed. “I don’t know. Things always seem gloomy in the winter. Maybe it’s the wind coming out of my sails. I sat down to make my New Year’s resolutions yesterday and came up blank. A lot happened last year. I graduated college, got married, got a job, published a couple of short stories, and now …” she trailed off, spreading her hands. “Another year starts and I wonder where I go from here. But you’re right. I do get the blues after the holidays. All of that fun with family and friends and just like that, it’s over. I guess that’s why I wish it would snow. It’s so rare to get snow in central South Carolina. It’s been three years since we had a decent snow that stuck. It’s usually cold rain or sleet.”

Mrs. Reynolds nodded. “It can be boring to get back to the same old routine. I feel it too. Every day is the same here. That’s why I’m glad to see you on Fridays. But don’t fret over the snow. I’m from the mountains of North Carolina. That’s where my daughter and her family live. It was beautiful to have a white Christmas, but that snow is a mess when it melts.” She shrugged. “The way I see it, the rain nourishes just as well as snow. The snow looks prettier, but it all works the same. The difference is in the packaging.”

“I’m glad you had a nice holiday. I bet it was beautiful up there. Coming back must have been depressing.”

Mrs. Reynolds sighed. “I’ve learned to be content with what I have, and I think you will too. I’ll tell you this: There’s a beautiful simplicity to the days when you’re just starting out in the world. Everything is exciting and new. Hold on to that wonder while it lasts. There are a lot of open doors in your life now. Once you start going through those doors, your choices become more limited.” She waved the book in her hand. “Take this, for example. You’re a great writer. I have no doubt that one day you’ll achieve your dream of publishing a novel. Don’t give up yet. You’re just getting started.”

Macy smiled. “Thanks for your encouragement. It’s a great gift today.”

Mrs. Reynolds laughed. “Where there’s life, there’s hope!”

Macy stood. “I better go. I know you have group therapy soon, and I promised Jeremy I’d bring him some soup from the diner near the apartment.”

“Thank you for the beautiful book. I know I’ll enjoy this. Merry Christmas!”

Macy hugged Mrs. Reynolds. “Merry Christmas to you too. I’ll see you next week.”


Macy rushed in the nursing home a week later, barely able to contain her excitement. The previous weekend she had an idea for a novel, and she had been writing in every moment she could spare. She had three chapters completed and brought them for Mrs. Reynolds to read. Macy knew she’d be proud. She smiled as she approached the sign-in desk. “Hi Janet, I’m here to see Mrs. Reynolds.”

Janet paled. “Macy, I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“What’s wrong? Is she sick?”

“Mrs. Reynolds passed away last Friday night. She had a heart attack in her sleep. They found her in her bed Saturday morning.”

Macy dropped in a chair. “She’s gone?”

Janet nodded. “I’m sorry. Her daughter had the funeral and burial in North Carolina. I would have called, but we don’t have your telephone number and you aren’t in the phone book.”

“I understand,” Macy said, still in shock.

“Do you want me to get you a drink from the machine in the break room?”

Macy stood. “No, I’m fine.”

“I do have something for you. Her daughter found it while they were cleaning out her room yesterday. She asked me to give this to you.” She handed Macy a book. It was the devotional book she gave Mrs. Reynolds the previous week.

Macy nodded. “Thanks Janet. Have a good weekend.”

She walked in the parking lot, blowing a sigh that came out in a cloud of smoke. It was another gloomy winter day that perfectly matched her mood. A gust of wind blew back the cover of the book. Macy spied neat writing underneath her inscription. Stopping outside her car, she read:

Dear Macy:

Thanks for being a friend to Mom. I appreciate the time you took to visit her every Friday. She often told me that was a highlight of her week.

You are an excellent writer. She read this story to me over the telephone the evening before she died. Please don’t ever stop writing. You have a special talent and you should develop it.

Mom was so proud of you. Thanks for being there for her.

Warmest regards,

Andrea (Reynolds) Jenkins and family

Tears stung Macy’s eyes as she dropped the book in her bag and fumbled for her keys. As she unlocked the door, something cold fell on her head. Looking up, she saw snow falling from the sky, and it appeared to be sticking to her car and the ground. She smiled. Where there’s life; there’s hope.

“Thank you,” she whispered, knowing Mrs. Reynolds had just given her last Christmas gift.

Word Count: 1,187