The Wisp Christmas Lady
Her small, slippered feet moved swiftly but silently down the smooth wooden stairs they’d polished just the night before.
It was 3 AM, and this was her Christmas tradition — one she’d followed for years, ever since she was a slip of a girl. She was up, making coffee to keep her warm, preparing for her rounds to the less-fortunate families in the neighborhood.
The box under her bed had been waiting for this night for months now. It was packed with coats, hats, small toys, toothbrushes, and much-needed items for the coming year.
She slipped her small feet into her well-worn leather boots and stood by the door, ready to head out.
The deck steps were slick with snow and ice, but the leather of her boots kept her walk steady and sure-footed as she found her way through the tall evergreen trees.
The box in her hands was made of sturdy cardboard, wrapped in glittering red paper that shimmered with an ethereal glow. As she wove her way through the small forest, moonlight bathed her path, making the paper glow. .
She smiled, remembering the day she bought the box and paper.
She had been walking through the market, the cobblestones crunching beneath her shiny leather-heeled boots, which she only wore when she wanted to look impressive and well-off.
She’d spotted the tall, striking woman before the woman saw her, and under a cobalt sky, she approached the woman and her daughter, hoping to trade one of her skills for a bag of silver or any of the items she needed.
Teaching the woman how to French braid had been a challenge. As no matter how hard she tried, the woman’s fingers weren’t as nimble as her own.
But she’d finally succeeded, and the woman was thrilled, knowing she could now present her daughter in a respectable fashion for a young lady. It was more than a fair trade, she thought, as she cradled the well-made box to her chest and trekked through the thickening snow.
A few moments later, she turned up the Hall family’s driveway and saw the warm glow of light spilling through the front window.
Guided by the light, she stooped down and placed the box on the doorstep. She carefully took a small blanket from her bag, wrapping it around the box to protect it from the snow and wind. She lingered for a moment, resting her feet before the long walk home.
When she finally stood and began her journey back, she felt a quiet pride, knowing they would never realize who had been there to leave the little box that would save their Christmas.
XOXO.
Lauren