Igor, the Boot! The Car Boot’s Flung Open—Stop the Car Now!’ Marina Shouted, Already Realising All W…

James, the boot! The boots openpull over! Emily shouted, though deep down she already knew it was too late. Their bags had tumbled out onto the A1, and the drivers behind likely hadnt seen a thing.

All the gifts, all the treats theyd been saving up for the last two monthsgone! There went the smoked salmon, the expensive ham, the tins of caviar, and all the nibbles theyd reserved for special occasions only. The bags of quality food and presents had all been carefully placed on top, so nothing would get squashed. Theyd packed more than usual, heading north to Jamess Nans for Christmas and New Year’s.

It seemed the whole country was escaping the city for the holidaysthe motorway was jammed, cars crawling along bumper to bumper. When something falls out, theres no way to stop and turn round. Its lost, plain and simple.

The kids in the back seat eyed their mums tight expression and began to wail. Emily soothed them as James eased the car to the shoulder and swung it to a halt. There was still that small hopemaybe the bags had landed by the verge. They hustled back along the edge of the road, hearts in throats, but there was no sign. It was pointless searching, only wasting time.

Dont fret, love. Well manage, one way or another. None of it really mattersnot compared to us all being together, James said, glancing at Emilys face. Lets get back inlook at that snow, and the lights nearly gone. The roads are bad enough as it is.

For the rest of the drive, Emily stared silently out at the swirling flakes. Should she scold James for not checking the boot? The car was old, the latch unreliable. She tried to shrug it off, but tears prickled up again. Shed skimped and saved just to give everyone a treatit was hard to swallow. Why did bad luck always follow her around? She tried not to think about the fluffy, beautiful throw shed bought as Nans special present, now probably lying by the side of the A1.

They finally pulled into the little village well after midnight. Theyd assumed Nan Margaret would be asleep, but the porch light blazed bright, and she appeared at the door with her neighbour, Mrs Jenkins.

Thank heavens youre safe! Nan cried, bustling forward to hug each in turn. Emily, James, at last! Oh, and theres Oliver and Lily! My dear little ones, such a relief!

Were fine, Nan, you mustnt worry so, James said, wrapping his arms round her thin shoulders. Go inside, youve only got your mac onits freezing. What on earths got you so riled?

Nan waved a frail hand. Dont you laugh now, but Mrs Jenkins and I spent all evening praying over you. I had a visionclear as dayof your car veering off the road, something dreadful. I woke in the middle of the afternoon, cold with dread and such a sense of foreboding! Mrs Jenkins was round, her sons family already arrived, and I just blurted it out.

She said, Wed better pray and hope theyre kept from harm! And so we did, all evening, and called on St Nicholas too. God only knows, we promised whatever it tookanything to bring you home safe. And look! Here you all are, healthy and whole, and nothing else matters.

Youre right, Nan, Emily and James exchanged glances, and if someone found our hamper and it made their Christmas, better for them. Maybe it was meant that way.

New Years Eve was spent in grand fashion, with a laden table and a boisterous crowd. Roast potatoes, crusty bread and pickled onions, the classic prawn ring and a beautiful roast goose. Of course, Nans famous sausage rolls kept appearing, with Oliver and Lily snatching them fresh from the oven. That’s all the kids wanted! By day, they raced sleds down the village green with neighbours kids. Eyes fluttered, but no one would go to bed before midnightnot until theyd seen Father Christmas leave presents under the tree.

Nan Margaret gleamed with joy, gathering her flockher own great-grandkids and Mrs Jenkinss tooaround her. This, she knew, was true happiness: everyone together.

Meanwhile, in a forgotten hamlet miles away, in one of just three cottages, two elderly sisters, Grace and Mildred, and their neighbour, old Mr Turner, sat around a table for Christmas. Times were tough; they got by however they could. No family came calling anymore. Summer at least brought them the garden, but winter was a challenge: cold, lonely, and hard for people their age.

Still, they managed. Mostly by sticking together. Mr Turner had even dragged in a small fir tree, and though their festive fare was little more than bread and soup, they were grateful. That morning, Mr Turner had tramped out to the woods with his sledge for kindling. As he heaped branches onto the sled, he spotted something poking from a snowdrift by the lane.

He trudged over and tuggedit was a bag. He opened it upand could hardly believe his eyes! Salmon, caviar, fancy meats, all tucked in beside a soft, snow-white throw. He looked up and down the lane, but no one was there.

He loaded the bag onto his sledge with the kindling and returned home. The throw he laid out before Grace and Mildred, got the fire going, and the sisters laid the spread on the table.

I never dreamed Id taste such delicacies again, Mildred murmured in wonder.

Nor I, Grace replied, shaking her head. Perhaps its a blessinga little reward, after all these years.

God must have sent it, Mr Turner concluded. Maybe well keep going a bit longer, in warmth and good cheer.

Its hardly worth lamenting over lost possessions. Sometimes, its Providences way of steering us clear of worse fate. If anything, be glad for preserved health, and for the unexpected joy it can bring to others. That, in the end, is what truly matters.