Submitted by: LadyisREAL
From: DDiems
Stella had been prepared for her husband's death. Since the doctor's
   pronouncement of terminal cancer, they had both faced the inevitable,
   striving to make the most of their remaining time together. Dave's
   financial affairs had always been in order. There were no new burdens in
   her widowed state. It was just the awful aloneness...the lack of purpose
to
   her days.
    They had been a childless couple. It had been their choice. Their lives
   had been so full and rich. They had been content with busy careers, and
with each other. They had many friends. Had. That was the operative word
these
days. It was bad enough losing the one person you loved with all your heart.
But over the past few years, she and Dave repeatedly had to cope with the
deaths of their friends and relations. They were all of an age -- an age
when
human bodies began giving up. Dying. Face it -- they were old!
    And now, approaching the first Christmas without Dave, Stella was all
   too aware she would be on her own.
    With shaky fingers, she lowered the volume of her radio so that the
  Christmas music became a muted background. To her surprise, she saw that
the
mail had come. With the inevitable wince of pain from her arthritis, she
bent
to retrieve the white envelopes from the floor. She sat on the piano bench
to
open them. They were mostly Christmas cards, and her sad eyes smiled at the
familiarity of the traditional scenes and at the loving messages inside. She
arranged them among the others on the piano top. In her entire house, they
were the only seasonal decoration. The holiday was less than a week away,
but
she just did not have the heart to put up a silly tree, or even set up the
stable that Dave had built with his own hands.
    Suddenly engulfed by the loneliness of it all, Stella buried her face in
   her hands, and let the tears come. How would she possibly get through
   Christmas and the winter beyond it!
    The ring of the doorbell was so unexpected that Stella had to stifle a
   small scream of surprise. Now who could possibly be calling on her? She
opened the wooden door and stared through the screened window of the storm
door with consternation. On her front porch, stood a strange, young man,
whose
head was barely visible above the large carton in his arms. She peered
beyond
him to the driveway, but there was nothing about the small car to give clue
to
his identity. Summoning courage, the elderly lady opened the door slightly
and
he stepped sideways to speak into the space.
    "Mrs. Thornhope?" She nodded. He continued, "I have a package for you."
    Curiosity drove caution from her mind. She pushed the door open, and he
   entered. Smiling, he placed his burden carefully on the floor and stood
   to retrieve an envelope that protruded from his pocket. As he handed it
to
   her, a sound came from the box. Stella jumped. The man laughed in apology
and bent to straighten up the cardboard flaps, holding them open in an
invitation for her to peek inside.
    It was a dog! To be more exact, a golden Labrador retriever puppy. As
   the gentleman lifted its squirming body up into his arms, he explained,
"This is for you, ma'am. He's six weeks old and completely housebroken." The
young pup wiggled in happiness at being released from captivity and thrust
ecstatic, wet kisses in the direction of the young man's face. "We were
supposed to deliver him on Christmas Eve," he continued with some
difficulty,
as he strove to rescue his chin from the wet little tongue, "but the staff
at
the kennels start their holidays tomorrow. Hope you don't mind an early
present."
    Shock had stolen her ability to think clearly. Unable to form coherent
   sentences, she stammered, "But...I don't...mean...who..?"
    The young fellow set the animal down on the doormat between them and
   then reached out a finger to tap the envelope she was still holding.
"There's a letter in there that explains everything, pretty much. The dog
was
bought last July while her mother was still pregnant. It was meant to be a
Christmas gift."
    Unbelievably, the stranger was turning to go. Desperation forced the
   words from her lips. "But who...who bought it?
    Pausing in the open doorway, he replied, "Your husband, ma'am." And then
he was gone.
    It was all in the letter. Forgetting the puppy entirely at the sight of
   the familiar handwriting, Stella had walked like a sleepwalker to her
chair
   by  the window. She forced her tear-filled eyes to read her husband's
words.  He  had written it three weeks before his death and had left it with
the kennel  owners to be delivered along with the puppy as his last
Christmas
gift to her. It was full of love and encouragement and admonishments to be
strong. He  vowed that he was waiting for the day when she would join him.
And
he had sent her this young animal to keep her company until then.
    Remembering the little creature for the first time, she was surprised to
   find him quietly looking up at her, his small panting mouth resembling a
   comic smile. Stella put the pages aside and reached for the bundle of
   golden  fur. She had thought that he would be heavier, but he was only
the
size and  weight of a sofa pillow. And so soft and warm. She cradled him in
her arms  and he licked her jawbone, then cuddled into the hollow of her
neck.
The tears began anew at this exchange of affection and the dog endured her
crying  without moving.
    Finally, Stella lowered him to her lap, where she regarded him solemnly.
   She  wiped vaguely at her wet cheeks, then somehow mustered a smile.
    "Well, little guy, I guess it's you and me." His pink tongue panted in
   agreement. Stella's smile strengthened and her gaze shifted sideways to
   the  window. Dusk had fallen. Through fluffy flakes that were now
drifting
   down,  she saw the cheery Christmas lights that edged the roof lines of
her
   neighbors' homes. The strains of "Joy to the World" floated in from the
   kitchen.
    Suddenly Stella felt the most amazing sensation of peace and benediction
   washing over her. It was like being enfolded in a loving embrace. Her
   heart  beat painfully, but it was with joy and wonder, not grief or
loneliness. She  need never feel alone again. Returning her attention to the
dog, she spoke to  him. "You know, fella, I have a box in the basement that
I
think you'd like.  There's a tree in it and some decorations and lights that
will impress you  like crazy! And I think I can find that old stable down
there, too. What d'ya  say we go hunt it up?" The puppy barked happily in
agreement, as if he understood every word. Stella got up, placed the puppy
on
the floor and together they went down to the basement, ready to make a
Christmas together.
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