eve.

“Tell us again, Grandpa!” Hannah cheered as she wrapped her blanket tighter around her shoulders and snuggled up against Nick’s feet. Nick had fourteen-month-old Charlie in his arms and the aged rocking chair creaked under his weight as he swayed back and forth lulling the toddler to sleep. Charlie’s eyes were drooping but he was fighting sleep with all of his might. 

“Please, Grandpa.” A small voice whispered. Peter’s cheeks blushed as he sat down next to his sister in front of the rocking chair. “Tell us about when you were Santa.”

Nick looked down at his two grandchildren with pride. No two twins could be more different. Hannah was loud and outgoing, and her hair seemed to match her personality with her uncontainable blonde curls that were bursting out all over her head. Though his facial features were similar in almost every way, Peter was quiet and shy and his hair, a dark brown color, laid perfectly still and organized on his head from the time his mother had combed it that morning.

“You’ve heard the story a million times.” Nick looked like the weathered version of Peter and his full head of grey (actually all white) hair was soft and carefully combed. He was a broad-shouldered man who was strong but always kind and he loved to tell a story. Truth be told, he wouldn’t mind telling the story of his favorite Christmas again.

“Pleeeeeease.” They said together as only twins can.

Nick laughed and began as he always did. “Your grandpa was a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I had a large black thoroughbred horse named….”

“Nanook!” the children shouted together. Charlie in Nick’s arm stirred a bit and then laid his head back down on Nick’s chest.

“That’s right! Nanook. I had a red tunic with a chest strap and belt. A brown, felt Stetson hat and black riding breaches with a large yellow stripe down the sides. Brown boots that came clear up to my knee with spurs at the ankle. And what was my favorite time, Peter?”

Peter ducked his head and blushed again. Nick leaned in when Peter’s voice reduced to a whisper. “Christmastime, Grandpa.”

“That’s right!” Nick said and his grandson beamed. “Starting in June, the Force started gathering toys for the children of Manitoba. People from all over Winnipeg brought us things. Woodworkers made wagons, trains and wheelbarrows from lumber that business owners donated. Women, like your Grandma, sewed clothing and knitted blankets, scarves, and hats. Can you imagine? We filled rooms and rooms! Money was donated for food. What would you want Hannah?”

“A Cabbage Patch Kid.”

“Good choice! Back then a girl your age would want an Honey Walker doll. Isn’t that a strange name?” Hannah giggled. Nick’s voice lowered. “We had tons of snow that year. The drifts were taller than Peter.” He said, placing his hand a couple of feet above Peter’s head. Both children said, “oh” under their breath. “It was Christmas Eve. One of my junior constable friends was with me. His name is Rudy. We were worried about getting to the families that lived far away from the city. Our car was loaded with gifts, food, clothing, and toys and made it to most of the houses easily.  We left the toughest delivery for last.”

“The little family in the bush.” Peter said with a worried voice.

“Exactly. We knew there was a little family out on a bush road several miles from town. It was a mom and her four kids. The oldest was 8 and the youngest was only Charlie’s age. They didn’t own a phone. Rudy and I went to the store to see what we could find out. Do you remember what the storekeeper told us?”

Hannah was clutching her blanket nervously. “The Mom had not come to the store for a long time.”

“Yes, that’s right. He had not heard from them for a couple of weeks. He was worried about the little family with no dad. He filled a basket of candy and nuts to add to our treats. He was worried that we would miss the house that was so far away, so he drew us a map to the little family. He said we could drive most of the way but the road they lived on didn’t get a snowplow. And we would have to walk through the deep snow.

It was getting dark and cold by now.

We could see the moon in the clear sky.

We drove to the end of the bush road. It was bad. The snow had not even been touched and it was up to our waists in places. What were we going to do?”

Peter had tears in his eyes. “You got to help the little family.”

Hannah shook her head. “You should have brought your snowshoes!”

“You are both right. We had to try, and we should have brought our snowshoes!”

“So, you loaded up the sled….” Hannah nearly shouted.

“We did. We loaded up a sled. Rudy said he would pull, and I said I would push from the back, and we started off in the snow. It was hard going. We were worried that we would miss the house completely in the dark. We had gone about a half a mile, but it felt like a hundred miles. We talked about turning back. But I kept thinking of my kids, your dad and his three brothers, and I couldn’t stop. We kept going. And then we saw it.”

“A light.” Peter whispered.

“It was a light. We kept moving toward it. And then we saw it.”

“A cabin!” Hannah squealed as she bounced on her bent legs in front of Nick.

“There was a light in the window. We found them! We were exhausted from our trudge through the deep snow. We struggled to get the sled through the gate and up the hill to the front door. We could hear tiny voices inside.

Rudy knocked. And all went silent inside. Finally, the door opened, and two little eyes peered out at us. Then the door opened wider. They were not expecting two big burly policemen covered in snow! But they thought we were….”

“Santa Claus!” the twins shouted in tandem.

“One of the children said, ‘See Mama? Santa Claus did come!’ And that Mama hugged us tighter than I’ve ever been hugged in my life. You know, like how Grandma hugs you two when you’ve been away? And she cried just like Grandma cries when she hasn’t seen you in and you’ve grown so big. She told us that we were her…”

“Miracle.” Peter said proudly with a smile.

“That Mama told us that she had tried to explain to the children that the snow was deep. She had tried to explain to them that Santa could not find them in all the deep snow. That there would not be presents. There would not be Christmas dinner. Her oldest son had an idea.”

In her quietest voice, Hannah said, “He said that they could say a prayer.”

“Yes, Hannah. He suggested that they pray. He and the other children said a prayer together. That Mama didn’t know how she would explain to them when their prayer was not answered. How could she handle their disappointment? Their Mama said that they had just said amen when they heard Rudy knock at the door.

 We were smothered in hugs and kisses from Mama and all the kids.”

“Grandpa, did you cry?”

“I did Hannah. They had been scared to leave the house in the deep snow. They were surviving on some flour and home-grown vegetables. That doesn’t sound fun, does it?” Peter was shaking his head. 

“I will never forget the faith of that tiny family in the bush that night. And the night that I got to be Santa Claus for them. They were my miracle that year. So, I tell you the story so that you’ll never forget.”

“I will never forget, Grandpa.” Hannah assured.

“I won’t forget, Grandpa.” Peter promised.

Nick pulled Peter and Hannah into his lap with sleeping baby Charlie and hugged them all as tight as he could. “You are my miracle family this year.”