on his Christmas picture. And he’s the only one besides you and Mommy who knew about my perfect Christmas.” Her eyes got dreamy. “That means he opened my gift. And this is his way of telling me thank you!”
“Hmm,” Brian answered noncommittally. He shrugged in Tish’s direction. The doctors had asked them to keep Gideon as calm as possible, and this discussion was only exciting her.
“Really, Daddy.” Her expression was nearly frantic. “I know it’s from Earl.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” Tish moved to her side and felt her head. In the corner of the room, Dustin played with his fire truck, surrounded by a dozen new toys. Tish looked at him for a moment then back at Gideon. “Don’t get worked up.”
“God did it, Mommy. He really did it!” Gideon settled back into the chair. “This is exactly what I prayed for.”
“Yes, honey.” Tish smiled, her eyes red and swollen.
Brian joined them, placing his arm around Tish as they studied their daughter. “A tree. A doll. Presents. It’s the perfect Christmas.”
“No.” Gideon looked up, and Brian was struck by the wisdom in his daughter’s eyes. A wisdom that went years beyond her age. “That’s not what I prayed for.”
Suddenly Brian knew what was coming. After all, he had been there with Gideon that afternoon in the doctor’s waiting room when she’d prayed.
“Well? What did you pray for?” Tish sniffed, her cheeks still wet.
“Daddy knows.” Gideon shot a glance at Brian. “Right?”
“Right.” He loved the sparkle in Gideon’s eyes. It was still hard to believe she might live. That God had used the generosity of someone they didn’t know to bring them a gift they could never repay.
“Okay, guys.” There was life in Tish’s eyes again, too. “I’m the only one in the dark here.”
“Well.” Gideon drew a slow breath. “I prayed God would do something really amazing. Not like a dolly or a fire truck or money. I prayed he would make Earl believe again.” Her smile took up most of her face. “And that’s just what happened.”
“Something big like that, huh?” Tish looked at Brian and shook her head, clearly struck by Gideon’s tender heart.
“Yes, Mommy.” Gideon hugged her doll. “Something so big it could only be a Christmas miracle.”
E arl caught a late flight that afternoon and by five o’clock a taxi was dropping him off in front of the old house. There were several cars parked in the driveway.
For a moment he stood there and stared at it—the place where he’d grown up, the yard where he and Anne had once sat and talked and fallen in love. Not once during his time on the streets of Portland had he ever thought he’d be here again.
But here he was. And all because of one special little girl.
Okay, God. Give me the words.
He’d checked the mirror in the airport and knew he looked presentable. In fact, he barely recognized himself. That was just as well. It would have killed his parents to see the way he’d looked a few days ago. This new look—clean clothes, neatly shaven—was much 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
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