A Mrs. Miracle Christmas(50)
In this angel.
Mrs. Miracle stayed long enough to see Helen to bed. Before she left, the two hugged. Imagine that, Helen mused to herself as she settled her head into the pillow. How many people can claim they’ve been hugged by an angel?
* * *
—
In the wee hours of Christmas morning, Helen heard Laurel and Zach arrive back home. Although they’d tried to be quiet, she’d only been half-asleep, longing to hear the details of the birth of her great-granddaughter.
“Laurel?” she called out, anxious for news.
“Nana.” Laurel came to the doorway to Helen’s bedroom, framed in the hallway light. “Did we wake you?”
“No, no. I was waiting for you.” She sat up in bed and Laurel propped her up with pillows. “Tell me everything.”
Laurel sat on the edge of the bed and took hold of her grandmother’s hand as she went through all the events of the night.
“…and I was there in the delivery room when the baby was born. They gave her to Lizzy to hold first,” she said, her voice cracking before she could continue. “Then Lizzy kissed her baby girl on the forehead and handed her to me.”
“Oh Laurel.” Tears of joy gathered in Helen’s eyes.
“Nana, I swear that baby opened her eyes and looked straight into my heart. It was as if she knew I was going to be her mama.”
Helen didn’t doubt that for a moment. “Of course she did.”
“The nurse took her away to measure and weigh. I prayed with Lizzy and her mom, and then Zach and I went to see the baby in the nursery. Lizzy’s mom and dad stayed with their daughter.”
“Tell me everything,” Helen urged.
Laurel straightened, pride glowing from her eyes. “She weighs six pounds, five ounces. She’s nineteen inches long. I know some newborns can look terrible following birth, but Nana, I’m telling you—she’s beautiful, simply beautiful. Zach and I loved her immediately.”
This was exactly how Helen knew it would be. “Have you chosen a name?”
“We had a baby girl’s name picked out long ago. Helena Joy.”
“Helena Joy,” Helen whispered as tears continued to flow down her weathered cheeks. “You named her after me?”
“Yes, Nana. After you, and because of all the joy she’s given us. I couldn’t think of a better name for our daughter. I pray she’ll grow into a woman worthy of the heritage of her great-grandmother.”
“Oh Laurel, I hardly know what to say.” Helen wrapped her arms around her granddaughter.
They held on to each other for several moments.
“How long did Mrs. Miracle stay?” Laurel asked after they broke apart.
“Only for a short while. You do believe she’s an angel now, don’t you?”
“I’ll believe it, Nana, because you do.” The two ladies laughed.
“Hey, you two,” Zach said, coming into the bedroom, hearing the giggles. “What’s so funny?”
“I’ve told her all about our new baby girl, and now we’re talking about Mrs. Miracle,” Laurel said. “Nana continues to believe she’s an angel sent by God for us.”
Zach grinned. “And your point is?”
“Zach?” Laurel questioned. “Do you really believe she’s an angel?”
He looked to Helen and grinned. “How could I not?”
“But…”
“There was something I learned in Sunday school many years ago,” Zach began to share. “The Holy Book says that we need to keep our eyes open. We can happen upon heavenly beings without ever recognizing who or what they are.”
“And you honestly believe this?”
“I do.”
“Then if you both believe Mrs. Miracle was God’s ambassador to all of us, I’ll accept it, too.”
“When you bring Helena Joy home, you will,” Helen said, taking hold of her granddaughter’s hand. “God planned this baby just for you, and Mrs. Miracle was here to prepare you to welcome her into your home and into your hearts.”
Her grandmother was right about that. Tiny Helena Joy had already set up camp in her heart.
* * *
—
The next morning, on Christmas Day, Helen’s prayer was fulfilled. Laurel and Zach brought her to the hospital to meet her namesake, Helena Joy. The great-grandma wrapped the precious little girl in the soft blanket she had so lovingly knitted in anticipation of the baby’s birth. As she kissed the little one’s head, Helen could hear the soft sounds of harmonious bells somewhere off in the distance.
EPILOGUE
Five years later
“Helena Joy, smile for your mama,” Laurel urged.
“A big smile,” Zach added from where he stood behind Laurel.
Their daughter stood tall and straight in her pretty red dress in front of the Christmas tree, staring with a hard look at Laurel’s camera. Bobby, their year-old son, waddled toward the tree to grab hold of the silvery garland. Zach intercepted the toddler and swept him up in his arms.
“Come on, sweetie,” Zach begged his daughter, making a funny face while bouncing Bobby on his hip.