Read Online A Christmas Wish by Joseph Pittman - Free Book Online

after snowball at me. I buried my head with my arms, waiting for just the right moment to spring my surprise on her. Quickly, I grabbed a handful of snow, hurling it at her as I regained traction. She let out another peal of laughter while she retreated up the hill. I started after her.
    â€œNo, you have to bring the sled back up,” she said as I closed in on her. “No fair, you’re too big, you’ll catch me easily.”
    So I let her have her way, because kids love to win. I went back for the sled, and while I did she managed to reach the top of the hill. When I returned, she planted another snowball on me, grabbing the sled as I ducked. In seconds she had leaped onto the sled and was making her escape down the hill once more, laughing as the distance between us grew. “Ha, ha, Brian, I won, I won.”
    See what I mean? Her victory was sweet for us both because it had been days since I’d seen her happy and smiling. And even though I was chilled to the bone, I wanted nothing more than for this moment of détente to last forever. I settled for another hour of winter playtime, during which we attempted to roll a snowman and he ended up looking like some winter creature instead, and finally we gave up. We went back inside the farmhouse to warm up. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were a rosy red.
    â€œHey, Rudolph,” I said, “how about some hot chocolate.”
    â€œYeah, yeah, with real chocolaty sauce. And marshmallows,” she said eagerly.
    â€œI’ll see what we’ve got.”
    â€œWe always have them. Momma never lets us run out . . .”
    In a flash, Janey had quieted down and run from the kitchen. I wanted to go after her, but decided not to press the issue. Not now, not after we’d had such a joyous time. Instead, I made the steaming mugs of hot chocolate, adding some Hershey’s chocolate syrup to make it extra flavorful, as suggested. Letting it cool, I looked inside the cabinets and pulled out a half-empty bag of mini-marshmallows, probably left over from the summer. I tossed a bunch of them in each mug, and then brought them both up to her room on a tray that also had some cookies for dunking. Janey was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. I joined her.
    â€œI’m sorry, Brian.”
    â€œYou have nothing to apologize for. Janey, there’s going to be a lot of times like that, you’ll do something and suddenly you’ll be reminded of your mother. I want you to remember them. I want you to talk about them. I want to hear all about them. Some of them will make you sad, but if you think about how much your mother enjoyed them, especially when you shared in her enjoyment, well, you’ll start to remember all the wonderful times you had with her. Remember, you get to carry on her traditions. Like adding marshmallows to hot chocolate.”
    She sniffled. I reached for one of the napkins on the tray. She wiped her dripping nose, then took hold of the mug. She took a sip, then smiled.
    â€œMmm. Extra-chocolaty.”
    â€œYou told me that’s the way you liked it.”
    â€œActually, that wasn’t me,” she said. “It was Momma who liked it with the chocolate sauce. And it’s real yummy. Thanks, Brian. It’s my favorite way now.”
    We sat in companionable silence as we sipped at our hot chocolate and emptied the tray of cookies, both of us even picking up the crumbs. I showed her how to get the maximum amount of crumbs by dampening her fingertips. Janey again informed me how silly I’d been to attempt to ride the sled. But she said it with a smile that belied her opinion. That only served to make the day even more special, knowing she and I had recaptured a piece of the magic that defined our relationship.
    As she set down her mug, she wiped away a chocolate mustache. “Hey, Brian, can I ask you a question?”
    â€œAnything, you know that.”
    â€œAre we going to get a