The Wreath: Part 3

"Have you seen the box with the Christmas decorations?" Lucy was hunched over in the attic of her new home, looking through the piles of boxes they'd shoved up there a few months earlier.

"No," Jordan called from downstairs. "Isn't it up there?"

"Maybe," Lucy muttered to herself. She groaned and started wading through boxes.

Old t-shirts she couldn't part with. Tangles of cords for long-lost electronics. Craft supplies that she might use one day. She wondered why they dragged all of that crap halfway across the country.

When she finally found the box she was looking for at the far back, her heart dropped. A large box full of books was smashing it down. The sides of the old cardboard box were bowed out. One corner crumpled inward.

Grunting with effort, she moved the heavy box of books off. She gingerly picked up the damaged box. She reached out a hand to open it, then stopped. She told herself she needed better light, but it was a lie. She wanted to delay seeing inside, if only for a minute.

She climbed down the ladder and brought the box into the dining room. She carefully cut the tape and opened the beat up flaps.

Inside lay the remains of her mother's old Advent candle holder. One of the brass candle holders was bent over in strained agony. Two of the candles were snapped in half. And the top point of the center star had snapped off.

Warm tears formed in the corners of Lucy's eyes. She carefully removed each broken piece and laid it out on the dining room table.

"What wrong?" Jordan asked as he walked in.

Lucy swung around to confront him. "You broke my mom's candle holder!"

"Why do you think that?" Jordan asked.

"Your stupid box of books was on top of it and smashed it!"

"We both moved boxes into the attic." Jordan took a deep breath. "But, it could have been me. I'm sorry."

Lucy started to cry. "I know it's not your fault. It's just..." She broke down sobbing.
He hugged her, gently rubbing her back.

After a minute, the tears were done. She pulled away from him and took a deep breath. "Thanks. I just... I really wanted it out for the party. Cara's been asking about it."

"Why don't you call you mom?" Jordan asked. "She might know how to fix it."
Lucy shook her head. "It's probably broken forever."

"You might as well try."

A few minutes later, Lucy was on the phone with her mother. "And when I went to pull it out, the star was broken and one of the holders was bent and... I think it's broken forever."

Her mother chuckled.

"It's not funny, mom," Lucy said. "You trusted me to look after it."

Her mom laughed again. "That thing broke all the time."

"What?" Lucy asked.

"Honey, the candle holders usually bent when I put it in storage. That's an easy fix. Just slowly bend it back upright," her mother said. "Go slowly and it won't snap."

"But the star." Though her mother couldn't see, she gestured feebly at the metal triangle."

"That thing is so flimsy. I've broken that star more times than I can count."

Lucy let out a tearful chuckle. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah," her mom said. "I know. Grab some glue and a few toothpicks, and I'll talk you through fixing it."

In just half an hour, the glue was drying on the star. Lucy and Jordan sat and the table as she lit the three candles. They'd buy new ones the next time they were out.

"Dear God, thank you for coming into our lives as a baby to renew and restore us. Take the broken parts of our lives and bring them to joyful wholeness. Amen."