by Shanna Hatfield
In a time so unlike any we've ever experienced, we could all benefit from more kindness, more joy, and more hope.
That's part of why I so loved writing The Christmas Wish.
In the story, the heroine runs a bookstore by day, but at night, she sits before her bedroom window, pen in hand, and writes anonymous letters to people in town, wishing special wishes for them.
Wouldn't it be a wonderful thing to do that in our modern world. To send special wishes out to people who could use a cheerful boost, or a word of encouragement, something to lift low spirits.
As the Christmas draws closer, I find myself drawn to ideas that could bring a smile to someone or brighten their day.
What's one thing you can think of that might be a help to others and bring them holiday cheer?
Home is the last place he wants to be for Christmas . . .
When an urgent telegram arrives from his mother, begging him to return home, old West photographer Percy Bruner can’t refuse. After an almost five-year absence, he dreads returning to the small eastern Oregon town of Hardman where he grew up. He’d dreamed of raising a family there, and loving his sweetheart until they were both old and gray. But with her gone, the only thing the town can offer him is painful memories.
Now that his family needs him, Percy must face the ghosts that continue to haunt him, and make the hard choice of letting go of his past or giving up on his future.
Will his return the place he once loved give shattered hearts a chance to heal and make a special Christmas wish come true?
Full of small-town characters, sweet romance, Christmas cheer, and second chances, The Christmas Wish offers a heartfelt holiday read sprinkled with humor and hope
~*~
“I can carry it.” Percy took his purchases from her. “What
are you baking upstairs?” he asked, sniffing the air again, catching whiffs of
cinnamon and apples.
“I’m making applesauce. It has to simmer for a few hours.
Grandpa promised not to let it scorch.” Brynn’s eyes lifted to the ceiling, as
though she could see through the wooden boards to check on her grandfather.
“It smells wonderful. I’m sure your customers are leaving
today with their stomachs rumbling in hunger.”
She laughed. “I doubt that, Percy. Especially if they’re like
you and come in wearing crumbs.”
Embarrassed, he hastily shifted his purchases to one hand, then
swiped the other across his face.
Brynn laughed again and stepped in front of him, brushing
her hand across the lapel of his coat. “There. Now no one will know you aren’t
the starving photographer in need of nourishment some of the women in town have
decided you must be.”
“Starving photographer?” He offered her a lopsided grin. “Hardly.
If people keep bringing around food, I’ll gain forty pounds before Christmas.”
Percy opened the lid on the tin from Filly and held it out
to Brynn. “Filly Granger made these.”
“Then I couldn’t possibly refuse,” Brynn said, taking out a
cookie.
“Take two, then you can share one with your grandfather.”
Percy waggled the tin until she lifted a second cookie.
“Thank you for sharing your treasure.”
“You’re welcome.” Percy edged toward the door, realizing he’d
rather stay with Brynn a while longer. She was easy to talk to, and to be
around. He hadn’t really noticed that about her when he was younger, but back
then, his only thought had been of Anna.
He’d discovered in recent days that Brynn was funny and kind
but always in motion, always thinking of something to do, whether it was for
others or for the bookstore. To him, it seemed her mind was never quiet and she
didn’t take much time to rest. He’d seen the light on above the bookstore several
evenings long after most of Hardman was asleep. He couldn’t help but wonder if
Brynn sat in bed reading one of the romances she enjoyed or plotting ways to
conquer the world.
Amused with his thoughts and the picture in his mind of her
devising battle plans at her desk, he grinned. “Have a good day, Brynn, and
thanks for the pen and papers.”
“You’re welcome, Percy. Thank you for shopping at Rutherford’s
Books and Stationery.”
“My pleasure. Maybe I’ll come back again and have a visit
with Teddy.” Percy glanced at the chair where the cat slept then opened the
door and stepped out into the nippy November afternoon.
Despite the chill around him, he felt oddly warm inside as
he made his way back to the mercantile.
