Читать книгу Shenandoah Christmas - Lynnette Kent - Страница 7

Eighteen years ago

“WE NEED more feathers.” Ten-year-old Cait Gregory sat back on her heels and surveyed the project on the floor in front of her. “We’ve still got half a wing to cover.”

Her sister, Anna, bent over and pressed a feather into the tiny bit of glue she’d squeezed out of the bottle she held. “We don’t have another pillow.”

“Daddy has pillows.”

“Are you crazy?” Anna pushed back her curly red bangs and stared at Cait in horror. “He wouldn’t let us use his pillows. He’s gonna be mad enough that we used our own.”

“He’s a minister—he has to do what’s good for Christmas.”

“You only say that because you’re the angel in the Christmas Eve pageant this year.” Anna tried to be the boss, just because she was two years older than Cait. “There’s lots more important stuff about Christmas than that.”

“No, there’s not.” On her feet now, Cait propped her hands on her hips. “The whole point of Christmas is the story the pageant tells. And the main part of the story is when the angel announces the birth of the baby to the shepherds. I’ve already got the words learned. ‘Fear not, for I bring you good tidings of great joy…. Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.’ See?”

Her sister shook her head and glued another feather onto the shapes she’d drawn and cut out of white poster board. Anna was an artist, for sure. The wings—wider than Cait’s shoulders and as long as she was tall—curved just like the pictures of angels she’d seen in books. Covered with millions of tiny white feathers, they would be the best wings any announcing angel ever had.

As soon as she found one more pillow.

Prowling the house, she tested every cushion she came across, but only the pillows on her dad’s bed had feathers. Cait stood gazing at them for a long time. Did she dare?

Later that night, lying flat on her bed in the dark room she and Anna shared, with tears drying on her cheeks and her stomach growling because she hadn’t gotten dinner, she wasn’t sorry she’d taken her dad’s pillow. Nothing mattered more than making the pageant the best it could possibly be. This was Christmas, after all.

And for Cait, Christmas would always be the most wonderful day of the year!