Free Miracle by Connie Willis Page A

O’Hara’s life,” Lauren said.
    “But by the end, everything’s worked out, the doctor has his X-ray machine, Natalie Wood has her house—”
    “Maureen O’Hara has Fred—”
    “And no one’s quite sure how he did it, or if he did anything.”
    “Or if he had the whole thing planned from the beginning.” She looked seriously at Fred. “He told me I only thought I knew what I wanted for Christmas.”
    Fred moved toward her. “He told me just because something seems impossible doesn’t mean a miracle can’t happen.”
    “What a great ending!” Evie said, sniffling. “It’s
a Wonderful Life
is my favorite movie.”
    “Mine, too,” Scott said. “Do you know how to heat up cheese puffs?” He turned to Lauren and Fred. “Cut that out, you two, we’ll be late for the party.”
    “We’re not going,” Fred said, putting his arm around Lauren. They started for the door.
“Miracle’s
on at eight.”
    “But you can’t leave,” Scott said. “What about all these presents? Who’s going to pass them out?”
    There was a gust of cold air and snow. “Ho ho ho,” Santa Claus said.
    “Isn’t that your costume, Fred?” Lauren said.
    “Yes. It has to be back at the rental place by Monday morning,” he said to Santa Claus. “And no changing it into rainforest by-products.”
    “Merry
Christmas!” Santa Claus said.
    “I like the way things worked out at the end,” Lauren said.
    “All we need is a cane standing in the corner,” Fred said.
    “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Santa Claus said. “Where are all these presents I’m supposed to pass out?”
    “Right here,” Scott said. He handed one of the shopping bags to Santa Claus.
    “Plastic shopping bags,” Santa Claus said, making a “tsk”-ing sound. “You should be using recycled paper.”
    “Sorry,” Scott said. He handed the cheese puffs to Evie and picked up the other two shopping bags. “Ready, Evie?”
    “We can’t go yet,” Evie said, gazing at the security monitor. “Look,
It’s a Wonderful Life
is just starting.” On the screen Jimmy Stewart’s brother was falling through the ice. “This is my favorite part,” she said.
    “Mine, too,” Scott said, and went over to stand next to her.
    Santa Claus squinted curiously at the monitor for a moment and then shook his head.
“Miracle on 34th Street’s
a much better movie, you know,” he said reprovingly. “More realistic.”

I NN

    C hristmas Eve. The organ played the last notes of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel,” and the choir sat down. Reverend Wall hobbled slowly to the pulpit, clutching his sheaf of yellowed typewritten sheets.
    In the choir, Dee leaned over to Sharon and whispered, “Here we go. Twenty-four minutes and counting.”
    On Sharon’s other side, Virginia murmured, “‘And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.’”
    Reverend Wall set the papers on the pulpit, looked rheumily out over the congregation, and said, “‘And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David. To be taxed with Mary, his espoused wife, being great with child.’” He paused.
    “We know nothing of that journey up from Nazareth,” Virginia whispered.
    “We know nothing of that journey up from Nazareth,” Reverend Wall said, in a wavering voice, “what adventures befell the young couple, what inns they stopped at along the way. All
we know is that on a Christmas Eve like this one they arrived in Bethlehem, and there was no room for them at the inn.”
    Virginia was scribbling something on the margin of her bulletin. Dee started to cough. “Do you have any cough drops?” she whispered to Sharon.
    “What happened to the ones I gave you last night?” Sharon whispered back.
    “Though we know nothing of their journey,” Reverend Wall said, his voice growing