Christmas Angel Project
90 pages
English

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90 pages
English

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Description

Perfect for readers who want a heartwarming and hopeful Christmas storyFive women from different walks of life have become close friends through their book club--enjoying one another's company even more than they enjoy the books. So when the leader of the book club unexpectedly passes away on the cusp of the Christmas season, the four remaining friends are stunned. They relied on Abby for inspiration and motivation. She was the glue that held them together, and they're sure that without her the group can't continue. When the group gathers "one last time" to open a bag Abby's husband gives them, they find Abby had made each of them an angel ornament for Christmas, crafted especially for each woman and accompanied by a sweet and personal note. Inspired by their beloved friend, together Cassidy, Louisa, Grace, and Belinda decide to commit themselves to becoming Christmas Angels to others in need. Each woman will use her life situation and talents to reach out and help others in her own unique way--little knowing that her own life and her relationships will be changed forever.Fan favorite Melody Carlson is back with another touching Christmas story sure to grip readers' hearts and perhaps inspire them to become Christmas Angels themselves.

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Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 30 août 2016
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781493405145
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0461€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

© 2016 by Melody Carlson
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
PO Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Ebook edition created 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4934-0514-5
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Scripture used in this book, whether quoted or paraphrased by the characters, is from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved. ESV Text Edition: 2011
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
About the Author
Other Books by Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
Prologue
Abby Wentworth sighed with contentment as she leaned into the soft plush sofa. “I think this was the best Thanksgiving ever.” She smiled happily as her husband set another log on the already crackling fire. “I mean, despite not having any of our family members with us this year, it went really well. Don’t you think so too?”
“I’ll say.” Clayton chuckled as he closed the fireplace door. “In fact, that’s probably why it was so pleasant—no family feuds or old emotional fires to put out.” He brushed off his hands, then sat down next to her. “I’m well aware of how difficult some of my siblings can be during the holidays. Remember how Edith and Dorrie bickered over the cranberry sauce last year?”
“That’s right! Homemade versus store-bought—I almost had to hide the turkey carving knife.” She laughed.
“No drama like that today.”
“But I must admit that Grace and Joel seemed a little strained—although they hid it well. Did you notice?”
“Yeah, but I chalked it up to having young adult kids.” Clayton slipped his arm around her shoulders, snuggling her closer to him. “The twins seemed like they were in a snit, like they couldn’t wait to get away from their parents.”
“I’ll bet that’s why Grace asked me to meet her for coffee on Saturday.”
“My little Abby Angel—the constant counselor.” Clayton gave her a squeeze. “What would your book group friends do without you?”
“You know that they’re more than just book group friends,” she reminded him. “Furthermore, what would I do without them? Those girlfriends have gotten me through a lot, Clayton.”
“Believe me, I know.” He leaned over to peck her on the cheek. “And I’m very grateful for them, Abby. I really am.”
She picked up her sewing basket from the coffee table, setting it on her lap as she opened the lid. “That’s how I’ve been feeling lately too. Very thankful for all four of them.” She removed one of the four Christmas ornaments that she’d been working on this past week. “That’s why I made these.”
He studied the ornament hanging from her finger. “I’m married to such a clever woman.” He gave it a twirl. “They’ll love these, Abs.”
“This is the last one. For Louisa.” She took out a needle and spool of white thread. “It’s nearly done. I think I’ll finish it up tonight.”
“Just so you know, I’m on KP. If I see you step one toe in the kitchen, you’re toast. You hear?”
“Thanks, hon.” She grinned as she put on her reading glasses. “Wouldn’t want to be toast . . . although I would like a cup of freshly brewed decaf. But it’s hard to make any if I can’t get into my kitchen.”
“One cup of decaf coming up.” He gave her a mock salute. “How about a little pumpkin pie to go with it?”
She laughed. “And here I thought I’d never be hungry again. Yes, please! Bring on the pie and coffee.”
As Clayton headed for the kitchen, Abby started to hum softly to herself. One of her favorite Christmas carols—and perfect for her sewing project. Before long she was singing the words aloud:
Hark the herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn king!
Peace on earth and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled.”
Joyful all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies,
With angelic host proclaim,
Christ is born in Bethlehem!
1
Belinda Michaels was shocked to hear the news: her best friend, Abby Wentworth, had passed away in her sleep. According to Abby’s husband, who called shortly after 6:00 a.m., Abby had gone to bed with a severe headache last night, the day after Thanksgiving.
“It’s too early to say, but the medical examiner suspects an aneurism.” Clayton spoke in a hoarse whisper that was almost unrecognizable. “I already called her dad . . . and the principal at her school . . . and now you.”
Belinda was so shocked that she could barely form words, but she somehow managed to express her sincere condolences to Clayton. “If there’s anything I can do—” Her voice cracked with emotion. “Please—feel free to ask.”
“Just let the other book group friends know,” he said sadly. “You women meant the world to her.” Belinda promised to do so, telling Clayton that he’d be in her prayers. But as soon as she set down her phone, she fell completely apart. After a long, hard cry, her sadness turned to anger and she began storming through her house. Ranting and raving, she shook her fist at the ceiling.
Why would God take Abby when she was only in her forties and the world still needed her? Abby had been a perennial optimist, loyal friend, beloved kindergarten teacher, and generally wonderful person. Why would God take her like that? Especially after Abby had fought and won her battle against ovarian cancer. Just two days ago, at their Thanksgiving get-together, they’d toasted to her six years of remission. And now she was dead from a brain aneurism? How could that be? How was that fair? And what would Belinda do without her?
Belinda finally found herself standing in front of her stone fireplace, just shaking her head. On the solid oak mantle were several framed photos. Mostly of her daughter Emma at various ages—from birth to her twentieth birthday last spring. But it was the old black-and-white photo, taken back in the thirties when Belinda’s mother had been a toddler, that caught Belinda’s attention now. Her round-faced mother had been seated on her great-grandma’s lap. Belinda had known since childhood that the wrinkled old woman, simply known as Granny, had been born into slavery. “She’s why we got to be strong,” Belinda’s mother used to tell her as a child. “We gotta make Granny proud.”
Attempting to steady herself and be strong, Belinda took in a deep breath as she looked at the clock next to the old photo. Surprised to see that it was nearly 7:00 now, she knew it was time to call the other book group friends. Louisa and Grace and Cassidy needed to hear the news. But how do you say something like this? Talk about a bad wake-up call.
Knowing that Louisa Van Horn was Abby’s oldest friend and mentor, as well as an early riser, Belinda decided to start with her. She quickly blurted out what Clayton had told her. Not surprisingly, the older woman broke into soft sobs, each one wrenching through Belinda’s already hurting heart. Louisa was barely over losing her husband last winter—and now this.
“I can’t believe it,” Louisa declared in a husky voice. “Our sweet Abby is gone? How can that be?”
Belinda shared what little information Clayton had given her and then, in an attempt to end the painful conversation, she explained that she still needed to call Grace and Cassidy.
“I think we should all meet,” Louisa said suddenly. “Abby would want us to be together right now.” They agreed to meet at the Coffee Cup later in the day. Belinda told Louisa goodbye, then prepared herself to call Grace.
As she waited for Grace to answer, Belinda wished that she felt closer to this woman. It bothered her to remember how she’d sometimes been jealous of Grace—often worried that Grace was trying to steal Abby’s friendship from her. Not that it had ever happened. Now she felt guilty for her juvenile feelings. Grace answered her phone in a sleepy voice and Belinda quickly told her the distressing news, followed by Louisa’s suggestion that they meet later in the day. Then she tried to cut the conversation short by explaining that she still needed to call Cassidy.
“Poor Cass,” Grace said. “Abby was like a mom to her.”
“I know.” Belinda winced to think of how Cassidy would take this. It would be the most difficult phone call to make.
“I feel so lost now.” Grace sniffed loudly. “I can’t believe I can’t just text her—can’t believe Abby’s really gone.”
Belinda attempted to say words of comfort, but knew they sounded as stiff as a poorly written sympathy card. “I better call Cass,” she finally said. “I promised Clayton I would let everyone know.”
“I’ll see you this afternoon,” Grace said.
Belinda told her goodbye, then pushed the speed dial for Cassidy’s number, taking in a deep breath as she waited for the young woman to answer. Since it was Saturday, it was possible that she’d already be at the veterinary clinic. She’d probably have her phone in her pocket to check texts, but Belinda didn’t want to text her with this kind of news.
“Hey, Bee,” Cassidy said cheerfully. “What’s up?”
Belinda quickly broke the news about Abby, but when Cassidy didn’t respond, Belinda thought maybe she’d lost the connection. “Cassidy?” she said loudly. “You still there?”
“Yeah—I’m here—I—” Cassidy’s voice broke. “I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe it. How can she be dead? We just saw her on Thanksgiving. She was

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