I sat on the steps of my mobile home and let the tears fall. Christmas was just two weeks away, we were broke and I was in the mood for a full-blown pity party.
Living in Arizona made it hard to work up any Christmas spirit. Back home in Ohio the snow would be falling, fireplaces would be roaring and family would be gathering regularly to celebrate the holiday season. Our church would be preparing for the Christmas Cantata, but unlike the previous 7 years, I would not be a part of it.
Our first Christmas since moving out west was a real shocker. Warm, sunny days, plastic snowmen propped up next to saguaro cactus and the local Santa Claus dressed in a cowboy hat and boots were not my idea of an idyllic Christmas.
I had managed to sneak enough money from the budget for one small gift each for my daughter and my husband, but we didn’t even have enough money for a Christmas tree.
“Stop it, Jan.” I scolded.
I reminded myself that I had a wonderful husband, a beautiful daughter, a home to live in and a God who love me. Still I whined
“God, can’t you at least help us to get a Christmas tree?”
Hearing no reply, I picked up my sagging spirits and went inside.
That night I was awakened by a wild dust storm. I could hear the wind whipping the dirt against the metal siding on the trailer and a horrible scratching sound that I couldn’t identify.
In the morning we went out to survey the damage. I laughed out loud when I saw the source of the mysterious scratching sound. A huge tumbleweed had blown up against the house. I picked it up and took it inside.
“Mom, what are you going to do with that?” my daughter asked.
“It’s our Christmas Tree,” I said. “God answered my prayer.”
I ignored the obvious eye-roll that passed between my husband and my daughter. I was going to make this work.
We dug out the box of Christmas decorations and put on some Christmas music. I hung the tumbleweed from the ceiling with red yarn and we proceeded to wind a strand of mini-lights among the thorny branches and finished it off with some hand-made decorations.
We were on a roll.
I mixed up some cookie dough, popped it into the oven and soon the house was filled with the wonderful aroma of Christmas cookies.
It was a strange Christmas, to be sure, but the three of us often look back on it as our all-time favorite.
"The Lord works in mysterious ways His wonders to perform."
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.