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Gifts Wrapped in Love By Charles Mills
“How can she live there?” Heidi whispered to her mom. “That house is terrible.”
14 Pacific Union Recorder
H
eidi pressed her nose against the cold window glass of the car as Mother drove home from the store. The girl was excited because in two days it would be Christmas. “Oh look,” she said, pointing toward a young girl walking along the snowy sidewalk at the edge of town. “That’s Cindy. She’s in my class at school!” Heidi was about to roll down the window and shout “Merry Christmas” when she saw the girl turn and start walking up to a house tucked between a small grocery store and a gas station. The words stuck in her throat. The house was barely standing, its foundation crumbling and porch roof tilted to one side. There was trash in the yard, and an old car up on cement blocks rested in the gravel driveway. “How can she live there?” Heidi whispered to her mom. “That house is terrible.” Her mother nodded. “It sure is. I’m certain they’d like to live somewhere else if they could.” Heidi sat back in her seat and thought for a long moment as the car continued its journey home. She was quiet during supper and didn’t even laugh when her older brother accidentally dropped his sandwich on his lap. When Mother reminded her that it was her turn to wash the dishes, she just said, “OK,” and went and did it. “Are you alright?” Mother asked, standing in the doorway of Heidi’s room later that evening. “You’re not your usual energetic self. Are you sick?” “No,” the girl responded. “I’m just worried.” “About what?”
