She was still holding her breath, like letting it out might disturb the magic, and the box would vanish. But then, suddenly and with all the speed she could muster, she ran up the three flights of stairs as fast as she could. Her keys shook in her hands as she tried to unlock the door. But she finally got the key in and turned, opened the door, and raced to dump the rest of the mail on her table.
Then she grabbed a pair of scissors from her kitchen junk drawer, forced herself to take the time to remove her key from the front door and shut it, then she took slow, deep breaths and forced herself to be calm.
Ever so carefully, so she wouldn’t damage the brown paper, she sliced into the tape just enough to break it and unfolded the wrapping.
Inside was a metal box, with her name painted in her gran-gran’s fancy handwritten script across the top. She ran her fingers across it reverently, like it was made of the most precious gems.
Maybe this was nothing. Maybe her parents knew she would struggle this Christmas, so they sent something to the North Pole post office to have it postmarked and sent back to Noelle.
But somehow, she knew it wasn’t. With trembling fingers, she lifted off the top of the box.
Inside was a stack of cards on thick cardstock. She picked up the first one—it was a scene painted with watercolors of the tree lighting in Downtown Park. She recognized Gran-gran’s style immediately. And among the people painted in the scene, she recognized Gran-gran by the red coat she always wore. Noelle stood next to her. She turned the card over and saw Gran-gran’s flowing script that had gotten the tiniest bit shaky over the years.
Start off the season by experiencing the magic in Downtown Park.
Every year.
She laughed once, covering her mouth with one hand, tears starting to fall from her eyes and run down her cheeks. Noelle’s entire family always went to the tree lighting, but she and Gran-gran always stuck together like glue while they were there. All that magic she’d ever experienced in Downtown Park had been with her.
One by one, she went through the stack of at least a dozen cards. Each one had a scene painted of one of the traditions they did together, with the description written ever so carefully on the back. Each one of them saidEvery yearat the bottom. She could feel her Gran-gran’s presence with them all. She swiped at the tears that were running freely down her cheeks so they wouldn’t fall onto the cards.
The pain of missing Gran-gran stabbed at her, but it was somehow a blunted stab this time. She could feel her presence with every card. Almost like she was with her as she looked at them.
She got to the last card, but there was no note or letter at the bottom. Where had these come from? And how did they get mailed from the North Pole a year after Gran-gran’s passing?
Picking up her phone and dialing Hope with one hand, she picked up each card again, looking it over, overcome by the feeling that Gran-gran was in the room with her.
“Hello?” Her sister’s voice sounded strained.
“Whatcha up to?” She tried to make her voice sound normal and happy.
“Wrangling kids into their car seats before we head over to the tree lighting.” Noelle couldn’t entirely trust her voice to come out normal. When she didn’t immediately respond, Hope said, “Are you okay, Noe?”
Noelle nodded, then sniffed. “I got a package from Gran-gran.”
“You—” Then, with her voice sounding further away from the phone, she said, “Honey, will you get this?” Then she was back. “You got a package? From Gran-gran? How?”
“I don’t know. Hope, I need you to be one hundred percent truthful with me. Did you send this?”
“No.”
“Do you know who did?”
“No. How? How did you get a package from Gran-gran?”
“I don’t know. It’s a metal tin containing cards she painted.”
“And you’re sure they’re from her?”
“I’m sure.” She looked at a card that showed Noelle and Gran-gran shopping for Christmas presents together. “She was definitely the one who painted these.”
“But how did they get to you?”
Noelle shrugged again, even though she knew that Hope couldn’t see it. “They came from North Pole, Alaska.”
Hope gasped. “I want to see these. We’ve got to get to the tree lighting soon. Can I come over after I get the kids to bed?”
Noelle told her yes and ended the call, then just stood for a long time at her kitchen table, staring at the impossible cards and the wordsEvery yearat the bottom of each one. It was like she came back to give her a message. Like she knew just how badly she needed it.
