Free The Christmas Lamp by Lori Copeland

there — it all adds up, and while I value the meaning of Christmas as much as the next person, my real joy will be putting Nativity back into the black.”
    She couldn’t argue with logic, yet could a price be fixed on people’s traditions? “Money isn’t everything.”
    “No, but to Nativity it’s a means of existence. Too many small towns in this area have fallen victim to changing circumstances. I want to see Nativity thrive.”
    Toying with her straw, she admitted. “If we’re speaking candidly, then I have to admit that I believe it’s too late to save the town. Our economy has been so dreadful the past few years. The town has nothing to offer. Now, with the recent cuts, people have lost heart. I hear it everywhere I go. The citizens know their little town won’t last much longer.”
    “What did Nativity offer when the buses used to come through?”
    She shrugged. “The Dairy Dream was the biggest draw. They serve the largest cones in the county. Folks seemed to enjoy the small-town atmosphere. While they ate their cones they’d browse the stores. We had a novelty shop that carried Christmas ornaments with the town stenciled on front, and some would buy Christmas cards and address them. Every store had a collection box, and the next day the owners would carry them to the post office where Nadine, our postmistress, would postmark them ‘Nativity.’ Then she would mail them all on the first day of December.
    “The tour people were also drawn to the house decorations. Nativity is known throughout the area for our festive celebration and the way the town goes all-out for the event. The day of our annual lighting, folks from out of town would come in for the whole day. They’d eat, shop, and ice skate. Then everyone would stay to see every house in town lit at the same time.”
    “Fun idea,” Jake responded. “I rarely visited Grandma after the accident, especially at Christmas, so I never saw the lighting event.”
    Roni sighed. “Nadine always looked forward to this time of year, but this season she’s worried we won’t have enough mail to justify keeping a post office.”
    Jake listened intently, stopping her occasionally to ask questions. Their food arrived, and they talked between bites. “Did you have a big Christmas when you were a kid?”
    Nodding, Roni dipped a mushroom into her tub of ranch dressing. “I’m an only child, but my mom came from a large family. My aunts and uncles live in Kansas City, but over the holidays they all came to our house. The place would overflow from Christmas Eve until New Year’s Day, when they’d all pack up their gifts, luggage, dogs, and kids and leave.” She took a cautious bite of the hot mushroom. “What about you?”
    “My holidays were pretty quiet after the accident. My aunt wasn’t one to decorate or make a big fuss, and I was a disagreeable teenager. I never wanted to come and visit Grandma Mary during the holidays. I still don’t make a fuss. I’m usually home and in bed by ten o’clock.”
    Roni smiled. “That’s a shame. You’ve missed a lot.”
    He shrugged. “Occasionally I think back and realize that having a big family would have been nice.”
    “Big families have their drawbacks too. They can get awfully loud. How long did you live with your aunt after the accident?”
    “Until I went into the air force.”
    “How long were you there?”
    “I opted out after four years.”
    “You didn’t enjoy the ser vice?”
    “No, it wasn’t that. My first love is flying. I have a pilot’s license, and I was training to fly missions in Iraq, but I have this sense of duty that plagues me. My aunt passed away, and Grandma Mary had a heart attack.
    There wasn’t much family left in the area, so I decided to come home and look after Grandma. It wasn’t all bad.”
    He winked. “I found out she makes a mean meatloaf at Christmas.”
    “Meatloaf? You don’t have the traditional turkey?”
    He shook his head. “Meatloaf. There’s