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“Mom, will Santa give
me a present tomorrow?”, she asked.
“I don’t know child. May be he will. “, she replied. Every
year her husband would dress up like Santa Claus and give their daughter gifts.
But a cruel illness had taken him away from them. The pain was too hard for her
bear but then she had a daughter to bring up.
“Mom, why haven’t we put up the Christmas tree yet? All my
friends have Christmas trees in their houses.”
“No darling. We won’t put it up”
“But why Mom? Let us put it up, please. It is Christmas
after all!”
“Let me see what I can do. Now be a good girl and go to bed”,
she said though she didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t gotten over his loss and
it was hard to celebrate. But she had to do something.
As she walked up to the attic to find the old decorations,
she got a call. It was his best friend. “He had asked me to give presents to
your daughter every Christmas. I’ll be coming around 10 tomorrow. Is that okay?”
“Yes”, she whispered as a lone tear trickled down from her
eyes.
Word count: 200
This post is written in response to the prompt at Sunday Photo Fiction