I told myself that if I just got her the perfect Christmas present it would all be worth it. It turns out that I was the one who got the ultimate gift.
I woke to the sound of a screaming baby with lungs full of Christmas joy. Or maybe just a diaper full of Christmas cookies. As I’ve gotten older, Christmas has become a slower process. Long gone are the days that my cousins and I would run up the stairs full of excitement upon seeing the gifts that Santa had left for us. Now as a mother I just wish to see that joy for my son. I would never have thought that I would be a single mother. Let alone a single, widowed, mother. My husband, Mike died in a motorcycle accident two years ago on Valentine’s Day, six months before our son was born. I ended up moving back in with my mother, losing everything, and having to start all over again.
That leads us to this Christmas. I finally have a great job and enough money to make an amazing Christmas for my son and my family. I designed beautiful custom Christmas calendars, featuring my wonderful son for all of my family. Then my mother told me what she really wanted for Christmas was a mantle that fit over her fireplace with matching bookcases. So I had them built for her. They’re beautiful.
The only problem was that they didn’t fit. They were exactly two inches too wide. I broke down, after everything that had happened all I wanted was to make this Christmas special for the one woman who has had my back no questions asked. I sat in my former bedroom, and I cried. I couldn’t take the fact after everything; the one gif t that I had spent so much time, energy, and money on was ruined. My brother came in and he held me while I cried. He held me for the first time ever and if nothing else, that was the greatest gift of all.
About the author: Elizabeth is a 23 year-old single mother, who works and is also a full-time student. She is a social work aid for the county of San Bernardino, CA. I love cooking, writing, and swimming. Follow her @hippiebetsi