Twenty years ago my first book was published, A Christmas Guest. It's the story of a little boy and his mother who welcome an old woman into their house on Christmas Eve, only to discover later that she was an angel. After she has gone, the boy finds a small wooden box containing a tiny gold angel, left behind by their guest.
I was very excited about having a book published, but my mother was ten times more excited than I was. She carried a copy of the book around in her purse and showed it to everyone, including strangers. She would introduce herself as "the mother of the author." Sometimes it was embarrassing, but the embarrassment was worth hearing the pride in her voice.
The year that the book was published I was at her house helping her decorate her tree. I turned around and discovered a small wooden box on the floor.
"Where did this come from?" I asked.
My mother pretended not to know.
I bent down and opened the box. Inside was a tiny golden angel, similar to the one found by the boy in my book. It radiated my mother's love.
Fourteen years ago this week my mother died, at the age of 57. She never lived to see many of my other books published, books that I never could have written without her love and encouragement that made me feel like I could do anything in the world.
I don't put up many Christmas decorations in my apartment, but I always have a special place next to my favorite photo of my mother for this tiny golden angel. It still radiates her love.
"Now every year at Christmastime, when winter winds blow cold,
I place high on my Christmas tree that angel made of gold,
I sip a mug of cocoa as I gaze up at the tree,
And think about the angel who spent Christmas Eve with me."
I place high on my Christmas tree that angel made of gold,
I sip a mug of cocoa as I gaze up at the tree,
And think about the angel who spent Christmas Eve with me."
Merry Christmas, Mom.
9 comments:
This is very moving, David. I'm glad you have that little angel to celebrate your mother's love anew each year.
Your mother died so young. I'm sorry for your loss, but somehow I have to think she knows you celebrate her memory with that little angel each year.
This made me cry. What a lovely memory of your mother.
What a great story of family and true love. You were (are) blessed to have such support!
David,
What a beautiful memory of your mom. It gave me goosebumps. That is truly what Christmas is about. Diane
Absolutely splendid. Thank you for sharing.
David,
Thank you for sharing this beautiful memory. I, too, lost my mom a few years ago, but in many ways she is still with me--she was a first grade teacher and a wise and loving mom who always encouraged my love of reading and writing. My first picture book, "Emma's Question," to be published Feb. 1 by Charlesbridge, is loosely based on my family's experience dealing with my mom's cancer diagnosis.
I am very sorry to hear of your loss, Catherine. Cancer was also the cause of my mother's death.
Congratulations on your upcoming book! It sounds like a bittersweet accomplishment. I have no doubt your mother would be/is very proud.
David,
Thank you for your kind words. Writing this book has brought joy and comfort. It's an amazing thing--the grandma in the illustrations actually looks like my mom, though I had no contact with the illustrator. It's funny how things happen sometimes, and how those we love stay with us.
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