Free Christmas Visitor by Linda Byler

politely.
    â€œI would offer a ride, but I think your house is not far away.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œJohn!”
    An irritated voice broke through the stillness as a tall, dark figure appeared, threw herself at John, and clasping his hand and looking up into his face, said, “Where were you? I’ve been ready to go for a long time.”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    Nodding his head at Ruth, he moved off, firmly pulled along by his fiancé, evidently, leaving Ruth shaking her head at the boldness of girls in this modern day.
    Ruth couldn’t fall asleep. She finally got up, took down the flashlight that hung from the hook in the pantry, and found the trustworthy bottle of Tylenol P.M. Sleeping pills or not, sometimes they were a necessity to help her cope with the problems as they approached. Lack of rest was her biggest hurdle. She had learned that the hard way.
    Thoughts tumbled about, turning a labyrinth of normal thinking into a hopeless puzzle. Why had she heard that? Those words? Were angels among us, she prayed. Please God, why? “You need to care for our children.” As if it were Ben. It wasn’t his voice, exactly, but more like a loud thought. Or a thought out loud. Was she losing her mind?
    And those eyes. Oh, dear God. She was so ashamed. But, yes, they were like Ben’s. Too much so. Heavenly Father, please keep me from falling in love. It’s wrong for me, now.
    In the morning, when Roy went to feed Pete and Oatmeal, he came back immediately, saying there was a box on the porch, a banana box, the kind they got from B. B.’s Store.
    Quickly, Ruth lowered her hands from brushing Esther’s hair, telling her to wait, and hurried after Roy. She lifted off the lid of cardboard box with its blue and yellow writing.
    A hand went to her throat. Roy was the first to look, turning the large John Martin’s ham on its side, touching the Butterball turkey, and poking at the large bundle wrapped in white butcher paper.
    â€œMam! Look! A turkey! What’s in the paper? Let’s take it to the kitchen table.”
    Elmer joined them, and the boys strained to lift the box with Ruth’s help. Esther and Barbara stretched on their tiptoes, peering in to see for themselves as Ruth unwrapped the white parcel. There was a mound of fresh ground sausage, and her mouth watered thinking of the crisp fried patties she could make to eat with scrambled eggs.
    The ham was enormous, and already she planned to bake it, freeze portions of it, and make soup and homemade potpie and ham salad. Oh, the wonder of it! Christmas was all taken care of now, at least the dinner here at home.
    There was another package of ground beef and one of chicken breast — something she had not bought since Ben died. She would marinate it and then sauté it for only a few minutes — so good. She’d make a wonderful pot of chicken corn noodle soup with chunks of celery and slivers of carrot and parsley.
    â€œOh my goodness!” Barbara exclaimed.
    â€œWe’re going to eat like kings!” Esther said and went twirling around the kitchen, her skirts flying in a circle around her and her partially done hair in disarray.
    Lillian gave a whoop of pure excitement and followed, copying every move of her older sister.
    Elmer, however, looked very grave as he pinched his mouth into a serious line, his eyes concerned. “How do we know who left it? How do we know it’s safe?” he asked.
    Ruth stopped. She noticed the way he held his shoulders, so erect, so…just so much more mature than his age with responsibility weighing on the thin boyish shoulders long before they were round enough or strong enough to support it. It broke her heart, the way he felt he needed to protect them — her oldest child and yet still so vulnerable.
    â€œListen, Elmer, I do understand your point. There is always that danger. But we need to have faith in our fellow humans. I think it was given to us