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This story is pulled from the archives as a celebration for the season edition.

Groff Media 2024© Truth Endures IMDbPro

Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©

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The snow fell gently outside Tom Whitaker’s cabin, blanketing the woods in a serene hush. Inside, the fireplace cast a warm glow, flickering and dancing, casting long shadows on the walls. The smell of pine from the small, undecorated tree in the corner filled the room with a comforting aroma. It was Christmas Eve. Tom, a retired schoolteacher, sat in his favorite armchair. He had a mug of cocoa in hand and a book he couldn’t quite focus on. For the first time in decades, he was spending Christmas alone.

His wife, Evelyn, had passed away three years ago. His grown children were scattered across the country. They were tied up with their own families and commitments. Tom didn’t blame them, but the ache of solitude was undeniable. He declined their offers to join them, insisting he’d be fine alone. He wasn’t.

A knock at the door startled him as he gazed into the fire. Who would visit on a night like this? He opened the door. He found a boy no older than ten. The boy was bundled up in a red coat. He was holding a scraggly puppy with floppy ears.

“Hi, mister,”

the boy said, shivering uncontrollably.

“I found this puppy in the snow. My mom said we can’t keep him, but maybe you can.”

Tom stared at the boy and the trembling pup.

“Come inside before you freeze,”

he said, taking the puppy in his arms.

The boy declined, pointing to a car waiting at the edge of Tom’s driveway.

“Merry Christmas!”

he called as he dashed off.

Tom closed the door, holding the puppy close. The little dog’s brown eyes looked up at him with fear and hope.

“Well, you’re an unexpected guest,”

Tom murmured. He fetched a blanket and some leftover chicken for the pup, who wagged its tail furiously.

Later that evening, as Tom felt less lonely, another knock came. This time, it was Mrs. Abernathy, his elderly neighbor. She held a tin of cookies and a thermos of cider.

“I noticed your lights on,”

she said.

“Thought you like some company.”

She handed him the thermos, and the warm, comforting scent of cider filled the air.

They shared the cookies and cider, laughing about old times and neighbors long gone. Mrs. Abernathy left after an hour, but only after gifting Tom a hand-knitted scarf she had made.

As the clock struck midnight, Tom prepared for bed, his heart a little warmer. The puppy, now curled up in an old basket, barked softly. Another knock came.

“Who now?”

Tom muttered, opening the door.

A group of carolers stood outside, bundled against the cold, their voices harmonizing in “Silent Night.” Behind them was a man from a local grocery store holding a box.

“We’ve got extra holiday meals,”

the man explained after the carolers finished.

“Thought you might enjoy one.”

Tom accepted the box, his throat tight with emotion. Inside were a roast chicken, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and a pie.

As the night wore on, Tom marveled at the change. A Christmas he had dreaded became one filled with unexpected kindness. He sat by the fire with the puppy on his lap. The scarf was around his neck. He held a plate of warm food.

“Merry Christmas,”

he whispered to the little dog, who wagged its tail in agreement. Tom no longer felt alone. His cabin became filled with the spirit of the season through strangers, neighbors, and a small, scruffy pup. The pup found him when he needed it most.