About a month before the first Christmas that I had to spend in Florida, a large box with a postmark that I didn’t recognize arrived at my house. Inside was a beautiful balsam Christmas wreath that smelled of all the Christmasses I’d ever known. No card, no identification to let me know where it came from. It remained a mystery. The next week, a second box arrived with mulling spices for cider, hot chocolate and a note from Secret Santa. A different strange postmark was on this box, still of a town where I didn’t know anyone.
Week three brought a “Christmas Traditions in New England” book from a third different town.
Week four brought a candle and “snowman making kit.”
It took a full year for me to finally discover that my friends at the job I left in Massachusetts got together to make sure I had a New England Christmas. They drove all over the state to mail the box from areas that I wouldn’t recognize, and each one I asked about it innocently denied any knowledge of the “plot” until they all decided to send me a note together. That Christmas left a “warm fuzzy” feeling for weeks, and even now makes me feel so loved and blessed when I speak of it almost 14 years later!
Maryellen Sullivan. All Rights Reserved. Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 5 (2007).