For our first Christmas in a new state, far from the rest of our family, I wanted to get my daughters, Tiffany and Jasmine, something special.
“What do you want from Santa this year?” I asked them.
“Bicycles!” they replied in unison. Clearly they had their hopes set. But when I went over the monthly bills, I saw I couldn’t afford one bike, let alone two. I took the matter to my head accountant: Lord, would it be fair to my landlord to be late with the rent this month? Just this once?
Over the next few days I waited to hear God’s answer. But the only voice I heard was my grandpa’s: “Diane, whatever you do, always pay your rent on time,” he used to say.
I guess I had my answer. I slipped the rent check under the landlord’s door and called the girls in. The phone rang just as I was about to break the bad news.
“I want you to listen to something,” my landlord said. I heard the sound of paper ripping.
“That was your December rent check,” he said. “Torn into a million pieces because you always pay your rent on time. Merry Christmas to you and the girls.”
Grandpa’s solid advice, a generous landlord and some heavenly accounting had added up to a Christmas gift that my daughters and I will never forget.
Read more stories about heavenly angels and angels on earth.
