The Christmas Clock and A Song For My Mother - Kat Martin Page 0,38

from her eyes. “Both of you.” She kissed Teddy's cheek and smiled and Teddy grinned.

“Are you gonna be my mom?”

“Yes, Teddy. We're going to be a family.”

Joe's heart squeezed. A family. Eight years ago, he had lost Syl and the dreams they had shared. Today, those dreams had all been given back to him.

As they made their way out of the courtroom and down the courthouse steps, friends and neighbors flowing out behind them, Joe ruffled Teddy's hair and reached for Syl's hand.

He thought of the incredible gift he had just been given, of the wrongs that had miraculously been righted and the gleaming future ahead of him. At the bottom of the courthouse steps, Joe looked up and whispered a silent prayer of thanks.

12

Lottie sat in front of the Christmas tree. She didn’t recall how the little tree had gotten there but with all the lights and shiny ornaments, it certainly was pretty. And the little boy seemed to like it. She used to remember his name but not anymore. She didn’t tell him that, of course. He called her Gramma, so she figured they must be related but she didn’t really recall. She liked him, though. He was such a sweet little boy.

“Aren't you gonna open it, Gramma? Mrs. Culver helped me wrap it real pretty.” He was there with his parents, a handsome black-haired man with lovely blue eyes and a woman with tawny brown hair and a pretty face. They were sitting on the sofa a few feet away, watching as the boy gave her his gift. She didn't remember either one of them but they seemed like a very nice couple.

She smiled at the boy. “Thank you.... I love the silver paper and this beautiful red bow.”

It was a big present and rather heavy, so the boy helped her take off the paper and open the box. “I paid for it myself, Gramma. I saved my money all summer.”

She looked down at the box and lifted off the lid. Inside was an old Victorian gingerbread clock. Something stirred inside her, a memory from the past. Her mother cooking in the kitchen, steam rising from a pot boiling on the stove. There were cookies in the oven. The aroma of chocolate filled the air, and she remembered licking the batter off the spoon her mother handed her.

“Do you like it, Gramma?”

She looked back down at the clock. There was one just like it in her family's kitchen when she was a little girl. She hadn't remembered that for so long ... so very long. She didn't remember very much anymore but that day in the kitchen with her mother ...

She turned to the boy. “It's wonderful. It makes me remember nice things. Thank you very much.”

She gazed at the clock. She must have been staring at it for quite some time because the woman— Lottie kept forgetting her name—came in and said it was time for her nap. The house was empty except for the two of them. It seemed as though someone had been there earlier but maybe she was wrong.

She looked at the clock sitting in front of her and caught sight of the lighted tree. It was Christmas.

It had been Christmas that day in her mother's kitchen. Lottie remembered that day ... so very long ago.

And so it was that Christmas in 1994 that set the stage for the man I became. As I walk across the platform and accept my college diploma, I think of my grandmother, Lottie Sparks, and the clock that led me to the people who became my family, the people I love. My grandmother is no longer living but I will never forget her or the things she taught me.

My name is Theodore Dixon now, but everyone still calls me Teddy. My mother and father have been married fourteen years and every day, I'm grateful they were willing to open their hearts and give me a loving home.

I have three brothers and sisters, all of us adopted. Of course, I like to think I'm the favorite since I was the first, but I know Randy, Jimmy, and Amy are loved as much as I am.

We're a family, no matter where we came from, and for all of us, our favorite holiday is Christmas.

In the heat of this bright summer day, the holidays seem distant, but soon the leaves will begin to fall and snow will be on its way. Christmas will come, a time of celebration, joy, and