A Christmas card from one I thought might not pull through, one I was worried maybe I’d done all and it had not been enough.

One who I thought my help may have run dry, she says

“Thank you for believing in me.”

I reply, “We are all in need of grace.”

A gift of a doll from my daughter. I wanted one being tossed from a float in a Christmas parade on that Sunday afternoon.

A child caught and kept one, gave it to his 1st grade teacher.

The teacher told him her mama wanted one.

He said, “I know, that’s why I brought it.”

Some call this serendipity.

I consider it providence.

Providence,

protective care of God or protective care of God or of nature as a spiritual of nature as a spiritual

I’m embroidering tiny little knots of floss in bright colors onto stockings for Christmas.

I’m struggling to thread the needle and I’m finding myself much like my grandmother wetting the thread to push through the eye of the needle, squinting and

Holding my mouth just so.

But, the most special thing is a little girl who told my daughter that Santa Claus is Jesus’ helper, he helps Jesus with the gifts.

And I’ve been thinking about it since I heard this, how I wish I’d thought to say the same.

But, deciding it’s quite okay to believe now, now and maybe later with grandbabies to help them to believe in Santa and in Jesus

and in helping.

Mostly in helping without ceasing.

In being someone another might know they had not stopped believing, believing

in.