The Christmas Star This was my grandmother's first Christmas without Grandfather, and we had promised him before he passed away that we would make this her best Christmas ever. When my mom, dad, three sisters and I arrived at her little house in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, we found she had waited up all night for us to arrive from Texas. After we exchanged hugs, Donna, Karen, Kristi and I ran into the house. It did seem a little empty without Grandfather, and we knew it was up to us to make this Christmas special for her. Grandfather had always said that the Christmas tree was the most important decoration of all. So we immediately set to work assembling the beautiful artificial tree that was stored in Grandfather's closet. Although artificial, it was the most geniuine-looking Douglas fir I had ever seen. Tucked away in the closet with the tree was a spectacular array of ornaments, many of which had been my father's when he was a little boy. As we unwrapped each one, Grandmother had a story to go along with it. My mother strung the tree with bright white lights and a red button garland; my sisters and I carefully placed the ornaments on the tree; and finally, Father was given the honor of lighting the tree. We stepped back to admire our handiwork. To us, it looked magnificent, as beautiful as the tree in Rockefeller Center. But something was missing. "Where's your star?" I asked. The star was my grandmother's favorite part of the tree."Why, it must be here somewhere," she said, starting to sort through the boxes again. "Your grandfather always packed everything so carefully when he took the tree down." As we emptied box after box and found no star, my grandmother's eyes filled with tears. This was no ordinary ornament, but an elaborate golden star covered with colored jewels and blue lights that blinked on and off. Moreover, Grandfather had given it to Grandmother some fifty years ago, on their first Christmas together. Now, on her first Chirstmas without him, the star was gone too. "Don't worry, Grandmother." I reassured her. "We'll find it for you." My sistems and I formed a search party. "Let's start in the closed where the ornaments were," Donna said. "Maybe the box just fell down." That sounded logical, so we climbed on a chair and began to search that tall closet of Grandfather's. We found Father's old yearbooks and photographs of relatives, Christmas cards from years gone by, and party dresses and jewelry boxes, but no star. We searched under beds and over shelves, inside and outside, until we had exhausted every possibility. We could see Grandmother was disappointed, although she tried not to show it. "We could buy a new star," Kristi offered. "I'll make you one from construction paper." Karen chimed in. "No," Grandmother said. "This year, we won't have a star." By now it was dark outside, and time for bed, as Santa would soon be here. We lay in bed, snowflakes falling quietly outside. The Excerpted from A Second Chicken Soup for the Woman's Soul: 101 More Stories to Open the Hearts and Rekindle the Spirits of Women by Jack L. Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Jennifer R. Hawthorne, Marci Shimoff, Jack Canfield, Jennifer Read Hawthorne All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
