Gideon's Gift by Karen Kingsbury

better for a reunion.
    Not that he knew whether they were home or not.
    There’d been no time to call. The idea was too last minute. He had no idea what he’d find, no way of knowing whether his parents
     would even
want
to see him after so many years. Or whether they were still alive. Shame kicked at him again. How wrong he’d been not to call,
     not to make some attempt at communicating with them before this.
    He stood a little straighter. Either way, he was a fifty-one-year-old prodigal son, and it was Christmas Eve. Whatever had
     happened to his parents in the past years, there was no better time to find out.
    He strode up the walkway to the front door. Then, without waiting another moment, he knocked.
    Nearly five seconds passed. Suddenly the door opened and his mother appeared. Christmas music filled the house, and the voices
     of people laughing and talking rang in the background. His mother stared at him strangely. “Can I help—”
    “Mom.” Earl saw the flash of recognition in her eyes. She hadn’t known it was him at first, but now… now she knew. “Mom, I’m
     home.”
    “Earl?” Her voice was broken and weak—almost childlike. He stepped into the house and took her in his arms. She was shaking,
     and for a moment Earl thought she might pass out. “Thank God. Oh, thank God. I knew you’d come home at Christmastime.”
    All he could do was hold her.
    After a moment of silence, she leaned back and framed his face in her hands. Then, with a smile, she linked arms with him
     and headed into the living room.
    At one end sat his father. He looked older, more frail than the last time Earl had seen him. Seated around the room were Earl’s
     brother and sister, their spouses, and kids. Conversations stopped and the room fell silent as Earl and his mother walked
     into view.
    His sister gasped and then covered her mouth.
    For a moment, no one spoke. Earl knew it was his move, his turn to apologize. But his throat was thick and he knew if he tried
     to talk he would break down and cry.
    Almost as though he could sense Earl’s discomfort, his father stood and moved slowly across the room. Their eyes met and held,
     then his father engulfed him in a desperate hug that erased the years. “Welcome home, son.”
    “I’m—I’m so sorry, Dad.” Earl’s voice broke and he buried his face in his father’s shoulder.
    One by one the others rose and joined in the embrace. Earl stood utterly still, his tears splashing against his new shoes.
     What was this? How could they so quickly forgive him? And why would they still love him after all his years of silence?
    It was a moment that defined their love, a moment that told Earl everything he needed to know: He was going to be okay. No,
     he would not have Anne and Molly. Not for a long while. But he had the love of his family. And a faith in God that had never
     been there before.
    “Oh, Earl.” His mother clung to him even more tightly than before. “You’re really here!”
    Then, as briefly as he could, he told them about Gideon and her gift and how it had changed his mind about life and love.
     Even God’s love.
    His mother still looked at him as though he might disappear at any moment. Then she said something Earl had never expected
     her to say. “How fitting—that God would use a child to make the miracle happen. Especially at Christmas.”
    Earl’s legs trembled. The love from his parents, his family, was almost more than he could take. He was so undeserving. What
     if he hadn’t opened the child’s gift? What if he’d tossed it in the trash can like he’d planned? Neither of them would have
     found life—neither him nor her.
    With a shudder, he shook his head and cast a pleading look at his father. “We’ve lost so much time.”
    “Yes,” his father wrapped his arm around him once more. “But think how much time we have left.”

POSTSCRIPT
    T he wedding was over and Earl slipped into the foyer. He needed to find Gideon, needed to give her