An unexpected gift from a secret santa arrived early one crisp, December morning. She almost didn’t see it tucked behind the plant pot on the porch, but there it was, clear as day. Sarah bent down, her brow furrowed, turning the envelope over in her hands. It felt thin, as though there was simply nothing in it. There was no postmark on the front and no address, only her name written in blue ink, in handwriting she didn’t recognise.

“Mum, I can’t find my other shoe,” a voice cried from inside the house. Sarah rolled her eyes and headed back into the house.

“Where did you last see it, Em?” 

“Toby had it.”

“Why did your brother have your shoe?”

“We were playing with the dog.”

Exhaling slowly, Sarah put the envelope on the table by the door with the rest of the bills, and headed upstairs to help locate the missing footwear.


Ten minutes, one shoe, and an almost-forgotten PE kit later, the three of them were finally on their way to school - Toby and Emily bickering from the moment they stepped outside.

“For the love of… why can’t you two just behave,” Sarah snapped, ignoring the stares from others parents. 

“I’m still hungry, mum,” Emily whined. “Why do I have to have just one slice of toast? We don’t even have jam. I love jam.”

Sarah’s stomach rumbled as though it were listening, and her heart sank. How could she tell them? It was hard enough having to explain that their father had walked out on them, choosing that woman over his own family. But now they were having to rely on the local food bank, just to survive each week. If it weren’t for the kindness of the local community, Sarah didn’t know what she would have done.

“I know, poppet, and I’m sorry.” She crouched down in front of the six year-old, her own brown eyes shining back at her. “How about, next week, we get the ingredients to make mummy’s famous lemon and lime chicken?”

“With mashed potatoes?” Emily’s eyes lit up.

“That’s right.”

“Don’t forget the yorkshire puddings,” Toby chimed in.

“Well obviously not,” Sarah said, grinning. She tousled his soft, dark brown locks and stood back up, her knees creaking with cold and age as she did.


By the time they arrived at school, the kids were in a good mood once again - having remembered today was Christmas Dinner day on the school’s lunch menu. The two of them bade their mother a swift goodbye and ran off to meet up with their friends before the bell rang.


Back at home, Sarah took a deep breath before diving into the pile of envelopes; various companies asking for money that she simply didn’t have, letters from her solicitor regarding the divorce, and junkmail filled with pictures of doe-eyed children, and kittens in boxes, from charities trying to panhandle the public at a time when goodwill and cheer were supposed to prevail. Glancing around the room, stripped bare of the wedding photos, the kitchen cupboards empty - bar a tin of potatoes, three carrots, four frozen lasagnas, and half a loaf of bread which was already nearing its end date - she scoffed. 

“Goodwill, my rear end,” she muttered. The envelope peeked out from the pile once more, but before she could get to it, her phone rang.

“Hi Sarah, it’s Dave. Look, I know it’s your day off, but we really need you to come in this afternoon.”

“I’d love to, but I’ve got no-one to look after my kids. The sitter isn’t due until tomorrow morning.”

“I’m really sorry,” he said, not sounding the least bit sorry. “We really need you. Three people have already called in sick and we’re short-staffed as it is, thanks to Caroline deciding to sod off and get married on some beach in the Bahamas instead of helping us with the Christmas rush.”

She ground her teeth, trying not to bite at his self-imposed bitterness. “Okay, give me an hour or so, I’ll be there as soon as I can. I need to arrange childcare.”

“I thought your kids were at school?”

“They are. I’m talking about after school. They’re 6 and 9. I can’t leave them on their own,” she said, anticipating his next stupid question.

“Couldn’t you just get their dad to pick them up?”

“If I knew how to contact him, David, don’t you think I would have done so already?”

Dave paused momentarily, not expecting her to answer back. “Look I’ll be honest, I don’t really care about your personal life. Just get here as soon as you can. Julie and Gavin are struggling on the tills right now, and we need someone to restock the seasonal aisle.” He hung up, his voice tight.


Sarah stared at the phone in her hand for a long moment after he’d hung up. How on earth did they expect her to be in two places at once? Not that it was anything new, of course. If she had to describe her manager at all, she would say he was the reincarnation of Ebenezer Scrooge. The only difference being that Dave had nothing redeemable about him. She needed the money though, and this extra shift would probably mean she wouldn’t have to worry about the heating bill for the next few days.

~

Eight hours later Sarah’s feet felt as though they were screaming. Her back was aching, her knees felt as though they’d never be warm again, and her stomach grumbled. The light pouring through her front door was a welcome sight - even more so was the smell of Mrs Fletcher’s beef stew simmering in the slow cooker.

“Thankyou again, Ivy,” Sarah said, shrugging her coat from her creaking shoulders. “Let me know how much I owe you and I’ll get it to y-”

Ivy held up her hand to shush her. “Don’t worry about that, dear. It’s always a pleasure to look after Toby and Emily. Just go and have a shower, get into something comfortable, and I’ll have a cup of tea and a bowl of stew ready for you.”

“Thank you. I truly mean it from the bottom of my heart. I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for neighbours like you and Bill. How is he, by the way? Did the hospital give you any updates?”

“Not yet, but we’re still holding out hope he’ll wake up before Christmas.”

“Has your son arrived yet?”

“Yes, he’s with Bill now. The kids are at home with Lou.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. If I’d known I was taking you away from your grandkids-”

“Who do you think made the stew?” Ivy smiled. “Louise has always been an excellent cook. Daniel chose well when he met her.”

“You’re so incredibly lucky to have such a wonderful daughter-in-law, Ivy. I only wish my former in-laws could have said the same about me.” Sarah’s eyes misted over, bitterly.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” Ivy said, placing a hand on Sarah’s. “Each time I saw that woman, I could swear the stick up her backside had been pushed in a little further.”

Sarah laughed a genuine belly laugh. It had been a while since she had laughed and it seemed foreign at first, but the more she pictured her former mother-in-law in that scenario, the easier it became.

“Thank you, I needed that,” she said, wiping away tears after a while. “Good riddance to the lot of them.”

“Exactly. Those kids have you, which is all that matters.”

Sarah could only reply with a watery smile.


Lying in bed later that night, the feeling of being full for the first time in a long time warming her up, Sarah glanced over at the pile of bills on the table once again. Cold began to seep through as she took a deep breath, finally accepting she couldn’t hold them off any longer. As she flicked through them, trying to decide which one to tackle first, she saw the envelope from the porch. The unfamiliar writing was neat, not too small, and looked as though it had been written with purpose. Unsealing it with a finger slid across the top, she pulled out a single sheet of paper. Something fell into her lap as she unfolded it. The letter simply read:


Merry Christmas Sarah. Dreams do come true.


Looking down at her lap, she saw it was a cheque made out to her, but it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Sure enough, however, holding it up to the light to see the watermarks from the bank, she realised it was real. The name  of the account holder simply said “Nicholas Santiago”. It wasn’t a name she’d ever come across, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why he’d sent her this money, but every fibre of her being wanted to reach out right now and hug him tight - to ask him why, out of all the people in this town, in the world, he had chosen her. £1000 was a lot of money, but she knew Toby and Emily would be able to have a Christmas to remember - and not for the reasons she had thought at the start of the day.


“Thank you,” she whispered, as the tiredness took hold of her body, falling into a peaceful sleep for the first time in a very long time.