The Best Christmas Gift

 For as long as I remember, I was an only child. That was why I was so shocked to discover that I had a sister. Let me take a small step back. One day ago, on Christmas Eve, I heard a loud knock on my door. I was still in my soft, plush robe with a large cup of steaming coffee in my hand.

 "Who in the world could that be?" asked my husband, Michael. "No one was supposed to come until noon."

 I just shrugged and shook my head as I half-walked, half-slid in my bedroom slippers towards the large oak door. I peeped out the window and saw a blonde, young-looking woman that couldn't be over twenty-five. I opened my door and said, "Who are you?" I had never seen this person in my life.

 "My name is Catherine. I need to tell you something. It's a pretty long story. Mind if I come in?"

 I looked back at my husband, who just shrugged. I said, "Sure." Looking back, that was slightly insane, considering this lady could have been a murderer or something, but I did it anyway.

 She walked in, sat in my chair at the kitchen table, and began talking. I internally huffed and sat on a living chair facing her.

 "I ordered one of those DNA kits for fun, just because I felt like testing one out. I was scrolling through all my great-uncles, aunts, and great-great-grandparents when I saw you." At this, she nodded in my direction. "I was intrigued because I had never seen your name before. I clicked on it, and it said that we were twins! Obviously, we were fraternal twins, but still! I could not believe my eyes! All those years of wishing I had a sibling when I had one all along!"

 "What did you say?" I asked, disbelieving. I was completely dumbfounded.

 "Rose," she said, looking deeply into my eyes, "You are my sister."

 My husband had been rather quiet through all of this. He suddenly stood up and said, "Rose, can I speak to you?"

 I got the hint and followed him into the hall. He whispered to me, "She is not your sister, I guarantee it. She probably turned up at twenty different houses and said the same thing."

 "Michael, I kind of believed her," I said. "Why don't we look online and see if she is telling the truth?"

 Michael was very reluctant, but he eventually gave in. Out of both of us, I am the most trusting- or gullible, depending on how you look at it.

 "Look, Catherine, we would love to believe you, but it is very difficult. Michael and I need some sturdy proof that you and I are related before we blindly accept you into our family," I said.

 Catherine nodded. "I completely understand," she replied. "First, you can take a look at my laptop, and then we can call our mom."

 "Mom," I repeated. I'd always known I was adopted, but my adoptive parents always told me that my mom and dad died in a home fire. My adoptive father passed away five years ago, and my adoptive mother recently died of colon cancer.

 After looking at the DNA kit website and seeing it personally, I was faintly apprehensive about the phone call to my mother. I had never seen her in my life, and I didn't know the slightest thing about her. I was beginning to form beads of sweat on my upper lip when Catherine placed her hand on my shoulder. "I was adopted too," she said. "Neither of us know her."

 I took a big gulp of air and dialed the number shown on the screen. "She will probably think it is a scam call and hang up the phone," I thought to myself while I waited for my birth mother to pick up. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I jumped a little when I heard, "Hello?"

  Catherine answered, "Hello, Ms. Magaret. This is your daughter Catherine and your daughter Rose." No answer. "You gave us up for adoption after giving birth?" A few more seconds of silence passed. Catherine was about to press the red end call button when I heard my mom croak, "I'm so sorry," she said. "I was only seventeen. I could not handle twin babies when I was still practically a baby myself. Please forgive me!" I answered, "Why don't you come to our Christmas dinner and we can talk in person?" She agreed. We gave her my address, and she promised that she would be there. The next day, on Christmas, all of my family was at my home- including my sister and mother. Margaret apologized to us again and again about adopting us out, even though we told her we had already forgiven her. "But what about our father?" we asked Margaret. She sighed and looked out the window with a hint of regret in her eyes. "Before I knew I was pregnant with his baby, he broke up with me. He got addicted to drugs, and before I knew it, he was dead. He overdosed on heroin. I truly loved him. It cut me deeply to see the love of my life go down that path," Mom said quietly. She wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks and said, "Now, why don't we get some champagne and open some presents?" I had gotten her a snow globe with a family holding hands inside, and Catherine got her an amethyst necklace. Amethyst was our birthstone since we were born in the month of February. When she opened her gifts, she cried and hugged us. "I love you girls!" she said as she squeezed us tightly. She gave Catherine and me two rings with the word family engraved on the inside. We sat around the fireplace exchanging funny stories for the rest of the evening. When it was time for Catherine and Margaret to leave, I told them how grateful I was for them. "You have both blessed me more than words can say," I said to them. "That is the best Christmas gift I could ever recieve."