It was at least two months before Christmas when nine-year-old Almie Rose told her father and me that she wanted a new bicycle. Her old Barbie bicycle was just too babyish, and besides, it needed a new tire.

As Christmas drew nearer, her desire for a bicycle seemed to fade, —or so we thought, as she didn’t mention it again. Merrily, we started purchasing the latest fashion—Baby Sitter’s Club dolls—and beautiful story books, a doll house, a holiday dress and toys. Then, much to our surprise, on December 23rd, she proudly announced that she “really wanted a bike more than anything else.”

Now we didn’t know what to do. It was just too late, with all the details of preparing Christmas dinner and buying last-minute gifts. So here we were—Christmas Eve around 9:00 p.m., having just returned from a wonderful party, looking forward to our evening ahead—hours of wrapping children’s presents, parents’ presents, a brother’s presents and friends’ presents. With Almie Rose and her six-year-old brother, Dylan, lay comfortably in their beds. Now we could only think of the bicycle, the guilt and the idea that we were parents who would disappoint their child.

“What if I make a little bicycle out of clay (黏土) and she can trade it for a real one later?” my husband Ron thought.

On Christmas morning, we were excited for Almie to open the package with the clay bike.

Thanks to my conservative(保守的）family background,I didn't believe in angels(天使）.That is,not until Christmas Eve of 1979, when an angel brought unexpected joy to my home.

After divorce,my two daughters not only lost the safety of a whole family,they also tearfully(泪汪汪地）left behind neighborhood friends, a familiar school, and a large house. These had all been replaced with a narrow two-bedroom apartment in a poorer part of town .

I arranged to take my vacation during my children's winter holiday. We spent evenings planning activities: games, a pizza night , and evening car rides to view neighborhood holiday lights .With expectation , they seemed to be in good spirits .

The week before the school break, however, I was fired because of the company's poor performance. By Christmas Eve,sadness covered our vacation plans. An afternoon outing did little to improve our mood .

On returning to our apartment, we were astonished to see a beautiful,six-foot Christmas tree propped(支撑）against our front door. In silent wonder, we looked back and forth, from the tree to one another and around the empty street. Excitement built,and the girls begged to keep the tree.

"Maybe it's for us,"my older daughter guessed.

"Yeah,"repeated my younger child,"I bet an angel brought it to us!"

I laughed aloud at the idea of an angel bringing a Christmas tree to my family. Caught up in their happiness, I announced the tree "ours".

We moved it inside and headed out to the only upermarkets in our small town open that late on Christmas Eve. With holiday goods down to half price,I agreed to buy a tree stand(底座）,two boxes of colorful balls , some colorful lights , and one paper angel.

Back home , we moved "our" tree into our tiny living room .

The annual winter holiday became a family tradition.

I started in on Winn-Dixie right away, trying to clean him. First, I gave him a bath. The whole time I was working on him, I was talking to him. And he listened. I told him how we were alike. “See,” I said, “you don’t have any family and neither do I. I’ve got the preacher, of course. But I don’t have a mama. I mean I have one, but I don’t know where she is. She left when I was three years old. I can’t hardly remember her. And I bet you don’t remember your mama much either. So we’re almost like orphans (孤儿).”

Winn-Dixie looked straight at me when I said that to him, like he was feeling relieved to finally have somebody understand his situation. I nodded my head at him and went on talking.

“I don’t even have any friends, because I had to leave them all behind when we moved here from Watley. Watley’s up in north Florida. Have you ever been to north Florida?”

Winn-Dixie looked down at the ground, like he was trying to remember if he had. “You know what?” I said. “Ever since we moved here, I’ve been thinking about my mama extra-extra hard, more than I ever did when I was in Watley.”

Winn-Dixie twitched (抽动) his ears and raised his eyebrows.

“I think the preacher thinks about my mama all the time, too. He’s still in love with her; I know that. He’s still hoping she’ll come back. But he doesn’t tell me that. He won’t talk to me about her at all. I want to know more about her. But I’m afraid to ask the preacher; I’m afraid he’ll get mad at me.”

Winn-Dixie looked at me hard, like he was trying to say something.

“What?” I said.

He stared at me.

“You think I should make the preacher tell me about her?”

Winn-Dixie still looked at me. “I’ll think about it,” I said.

It was the first time that I had a heart-to-heart talk with my dad-the preacher.