A Christmas Promise
Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. The twinkling lights, the sweet smell of gingerbread cookies, and the laughter of my little girl, Ruth, as she excitedly prepared for the big day. My husband Jerry and I had our own traditions, ones we cherished every year.
Our eight-year-old daughter, Ruth, made Christmas feel magical, especially with her adorable letter to Santa, which she’d write every year and place in the freezer. “It’s how the mail gets to the North Pole, Mom!” she’d explain, her wide eyes full of innocence.
Every year, Ruth would sit at the dining table, carefully crafting her letter to Santa. This year, she spent the evening drawing and nibbling on chocolate-covered almonds. “It’s done, Mommy!” she cheered, skipping over to the freezer with all the excitement of a little elf on Christmas Eve.
I smiled, assuming she was asking for the usual things — perhaps a new set of paints, a dollhouse, or even the glittery unicorn toy she had been eyeing for weeks. I was happy to fulfill her wishes, as Ruth was never demanding. In fact, on her birthday, all she ever wanted was a giant chocolate cake. Christmas was the only time she asked for gifts, and I loved making those dreams come true.
That night, after Ruth was tucked in bed and Jerry read her a story, I snuck into the kitchen to peek at her letter. It had become a little tradition of mine, reading her heartfelt words, seeing what magical gift she believed Santa could bring her. It made me feel close to her world, to her innocence and joy.
But as I unfolded the letter, my heart skipped a beat. The page was filled with Ruth’s cheerful handwriting and a drawing of a pair of heart-shaped earrings. Underneath the picture, she had written:
“Dear Santa, please bring me the same heart-shaped earrings Dad gave to my nanny! Thank you!”
I felt the room freeze, my breath catching in my throat. What was Ruth talking about? Earrings? Jerry had given Gloria, our nanny, heart-shaped earrings? My mind raced. Why would Ruth ask for those earrings? Why would Jerry even give Gloria jewelry?
I reread the note, my hands trembling, trying to process what I had just read. Memories of little things I’d brushed off started to flood my mind. The way Jerry’s face lit up when he joked with Gloria. How he’d always ask her to stay late when I had work events. The thoughtful gifts he’d given her over the years. They seemed innocent enough at the time, but now, my stomach twisted. Could it be true? Had Jerry been hiding an affair right under my nose?
The next morning, I kissed Jerry goodbye as he left for work, my heart pounding. I acted normal, though my mind was reeling with questions. Ruth was home from school that day, and Gloria was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
“What’s on the agenda today?” I asked, trying to sound casual as Gloria poured milk into Ruth’s cereal.
“We’re going to work on Ruth’s school projects and then read,” Gloria said, flashing me a smile.
“Sounds good,” I replied, trying to mask the knot in my stomach. “I have work to do, but we’ll grab smoothies later, Ruthie. You can leave early today, Gloria.” Gloria nodded, and the two of them went outside, as they often did, to look for birds and enjoy the chilly December air.
Once they were gone, I did something I never thought I’d do. I ordered a nanny cam. It felt strange, almost like something out of a bad soap opera. But if Jerry was hiding something, I had to know. The camera arrived that afternoon, and I quickly set it up, hiding it among the Christmas decorations in the living room. I didn’t want to confront Jerry unless I had proof.
The next day, I dropped Ruth off at school and made sure Gloria was home tidying up before I headed to work. By mid-morning, my phone buzzed with an alert. I opened the nanny cam app, my breath catching in my throat. Jerry was standing in the living room. He wasn’t supposed to be home.
I watched, my heart in my throat, as Jerry handed Gloria a small, neatly wrapped gift. She smiled when she opened it, her eyes lighting up in surprise. My stomach churned. I couldn’t sit still any longer. Grabbing my bag, I told my boss I had a family emergency and rushed home.
When I walked in the door, it felt like a nightmare. Jerry and Gloria were in the living room, standing near the couch. Gloria was holding a gift in her hands, and Jerry looked uncomfortable. I froze, staring at the heart-shaped pendant in her lap.
“Nice earrings, Gloria,” I said, my voice shaking with anger. “It must be nice to get all these gifts from my husband.”
Gloria paled. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jerry quickly stepped forward.
“Dot, stop,” he said, his voice calm but urgent. “I can explain.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can,” I snapped. “Explain why you’ve been sneaking around with our nanny? What is this, Jerry? What’s going on?”
Jerry sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. “You weren’t supposed to find out this way,” he said, his voice thick with guilt.
“You weren’t supposed to get caught, you mean?” I fired back. “That’s your excuse?”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly. “Just listen, okay? The earrings… they weren’t from me. Not really.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart pounding in confusion.
Jerry hesitated, then took a deep breath. “They were from Brian,” he said softly.
“Brian? Who’s Brian?” I asked, my mind spinning.
Gloria spoke up then, her voice barely above a whisper. “Brian was Jerry’s best friend, Dorothy. My brother.”
I blinked, the world suddenly feeling unsteady beneath me.
Jerry sat me down, his voice shaky as he explained. Fourteen years ago, Jerry’s best friend Brian had passed away from cancer. Before he died, Brian had made Jerry promise to look after Gloria. It was then that everything clicked into place — why Jerry had pushed for us to hire her, why he had been so protective of her.
Brian had been Gloria’s brother, and he had wanted to make sure she was taken care of, especially after losing their parents. Before his death, Brian had left Jerry a box of gifts to give to Gloria on special occasions — jewelry, keepsakes, anything to remind her that he was still with her in spirit.
The earrings had been part of that gift.
Jerry’s eyes softened with guilt. “I’ve been keeping that promise for years. The earrings were meant for Gloria, not from me.”
I stared at him, my mind still trying to process the truth. “So all this sneaking around… you were keeping a promise?”
Jerry nodded slowly. “Yes. I should’ve told you, Dot. I just… I didn’t know how. Talking about Brian is hard for me, and I never knew how to explain it.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I asked, turning to Gloria. “You knew about Brian and Jerry, and you just didn’t say anything? Ruth asked for those earrings. She thought they were from Santa, and that’s why I started to think something was going on.”
Gloria shook her head sadly. “I never wanted to cause trouble. I never knew Ruth would notice the earrings, let alone ask for them. If I had, I would’ve told you the truth right away.”
That Christmas, we had a long talk. It wasn’t easy, but I slowly started to understand the love and loyalty Jerry had for his best friend. The truth wasn’t easy to swallow, but it healed something inside me.
We sat down with Ruth that afternoon, a platter of waffles between us, and explained everything. Ruth listened intently, her curiosity piqued. When we finished, she beamed. “Santa will bring me the earrings, right?” she asked.
And of course, Santa did.
On Christmas morning, Ruth opened a small box to find her very own heart-shaped earrings. Her face lit up brighter than the tree, and for the first time in weeks, I felt my heart swell with joy instead of doubt. Those earrings weren’t just jewelry. They were a reminder of love, of promises kept, and of family. Jerry’s promise to Brian, his loyalty to his friend, and the love that kept us together.
Sometimes, the truth hurts. But sometimes, it heals.
And this Christmas, it did both.
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