by Traci Van Wagoner
Part 4 of 5
I sang my heart out, sometimes glancing out the window. It wasn’t snowing. But Papa still wasn’t home, and now the grandfather clock chimed ten. Bed time.
“I don’t want to go to bed,” Jacob said, peeking out the window.
“Mama, please let us stay up,” I said.
“Oh, all right, children. Come, let’s sit by the fire, and I’ll tell you a story about the star and the wise men.”
Halfway through the story, my eyes rolled to the window. My heart stopped. Snowflakes fell in a white curtain.
I bolted out of Ma’s lap and ran to the Christmas box. I dug deep… to the bottom. Old newspapers crinkled as I pulled out the delicate package.
I peeled back the layers of newspaper to get to the tree topper. A shiny, silver star.
“The star will guide Papa home!” I said.
Ma put a candle in the star, and Jacob carefully placed it on top of the tree in our window. “Pa will be able to see that from miles away,” he said.
“I hope so,” I whispered.
Come back tomorrow for the finale of the story, part 5.