The shaky breath I exhaled condensed in the frosty air, winter’s icy tendrils weaving its way into my tan trench coat. I pulled the fabric tighter around me, juggling the bags and boxes hanging from my arm in a feeble attempt to maintain what little warmth I had left. The foggy street stretching before me bustled with people on their last-minute Christmas errands; people who, like me, had waited until the last minute to gather their gifts. Normally, my gifts would have been ready weeks ago, but this year, December twenty-third found me scrambling alongside the crowd. Shops spilled warm light into the bluish-white fog, standing in contrast to the dreary gray cobblestone.

As if to accentuate my dire situation, small tufts of snow drifted downward from the wintry Smoky Mountain sky. I groaned, watching another puff of steam escape my lips.

A shop to my left caught my eye. Amongst the warm light of the store, the windows were packed with festive decorations–tiny Santas, sleighs, bells, and a gingerbread village. Hanging from the ceiling were twelve reindeer, completing the scene like an I Spy Christmas book. I almost expected to find Waldo hiding in this mess. As I began to turn away, I glanced up at the sign hanging above the door.

Christmas Dreams Toy Store. Hmph. It was one of those toy stores that changed to Christmas themes this time of year, and I supposed it would go by a different name once the season was over and done with. I passed by the old wooden door with a cheery Open! sign, and curiosity got the better of me as my eyes flicked towards the second window. Among the displays in a tiny little village was a set of felt woodland critters. Their little cheeks had been tufted red, their faces beaming with artificial joy. I followed their gazes to find a pair of rabbits standing around something. I shifted my weight to see better, the sight pulling me closer. The rabbits were standing beside a pretty bassinet with a tiny baby rabbit nestled within.

“You could go in to take a closer look instead of standing out here like a creep, you know.”

Startled, I straightened. My chest tightened as I turned to face this unwelcome visitor — Annie.

“Not you,” I groaned.

“Oh, yes, me!” she quipped, leaning casually against the window. Annie looked exactly like me—same blonde hair, same face—but somehow, she was a flawless version, with her jet-black turtleneck in opposition to my bright red one. Her perfection made my own flaws feel glaring. I grimaced as she tipped her head to the side.

“Long time no see, Allie,” she said, her voice saccharine. “How’ve you been? How’s Martin?”

“I’m not dealing with you today, Annie,” I snapped, though my voice faltered as a couple rushed by. They gave me an odd look, clearly unable to see her. Annie, as usual, chuckled without a care.

“That’s disappointing, because today is a great day for it! All your shopping done?” She examined the bags on my arm, clicked her tongue, and shook her head in dismay. “Behind schedule this year, aren’t you?”

My shoulders slumped, the bags sliding down to my wrists. “Yeah, I know. Which is why I don’t have time to deal with you.”

Her expression shifted as she turned to the felt animals.

“It’s a shame,” she murmured as I brushed past. “Those toys are beautiful. Lila would love them.”

At the mention of my best friend’s daughter, I froze. She was right; Lila would adore those little critters, and at almost three years old, she was the perfect age for them. Glancing over Annie’s shoulder, the price was perfect, too.

I hesitated, then groaned in resignation and pushed past Annie into the store. I didn’t see the coy smile that spread across her lips, nor the wink she gave down the street.

The door jingled with an ancient bell, and the scent of pine and cinnamon wrapped around me like a warm blanket. An elderly woman looked up from her book behind the counter and greeted me with a little wave.

“Welcome, hun! Let me know if you need help, a’right?” Her southern accent was so thick I had to rely on my trained ear to understand what she was saying.

“Thanks,” I mumbled in reply, turning towards the window. The toy store was much larger inside than it appeared, with shelves brimming with cars, books, and every kind of toy imaginable. The rabbits were in a display all their own, with wooden toys and more “classic” items on the shelves. I found the shelf with the rabbits on it right away, but I spotted other felt woodland creatures beside them. A small fox family would be perfect for Lila… Another one caught my eye: a little beaver family with two tiny beavers, one in the mother’s arms and one standing behind the father, as if she was too bashful to come out. They had soft woolen scarves wrapped around their necks, and the father held a tiny hymnal with minuscule sheet music for “O Holy Night” delicately etched on the page. My hand hovered over the box.

“Such a pretty design. Very festive. Aren’t beavers your favorite animal?” Annie’s voice sliced through my thoughts. Refusing to acknowledge her, I stared at the box before turning on my heel and walking out the door. Annie waved to the woman with a smile.

“Have a nice night!” Annie’s voice lingered mockingly in the air as I turned and stormed down the cobblestone sidewalk. The woman waved hesitatingly back.

My chest tightened, the icy grip of anxiety reaching into my throat. Behind me, Annie strolled with infuriating calm, her hands buried in her coat pockets. I paused at a bench, struggling to maintain my composure. Hot tears I had prayed would not return began to sting my eyes.  I inhaled deeply, exhaling in slow, deliberate bursts, trying to steady myself. When I turned around, there she was—standing a few feet away with her signature smug smile plastered across her flawless face.

“I do not have time for you,” I spat. “Be gone in Jesus’ Name!” I pivoted on my heel to walk away, but her footsteps trailed me at a teasingly greater distance.

“All I’ve said is true, isn’t it?” she called after me, her voice smooth as silk.

As I racked my mind for a response, my distracted steps bumped me sideways into a passing gentleman.

“Sorry,” I muttered, barely glancing at him as I kept walking. His disapproving shake of the head added to my simmering anger.

“I told you to leave,” I hissed at Annie. “In Jesus’ Name.”

She shrugged, her sneer widening. “I gained distance, didn’t I? Besides, doesn’t the Bible say life wouldn’t be easy?”

Her words clawed at my already frayed nerves. I turned to walk away, but she continued to follow, at a slightly greater distance this time.

Ugh. God, please help me! I whispered my prayer as another group hustled by, their laughter a stark contrast to my turmoil. Reaching my car, I fumbled with the keys, only to drop them onto the wet street. Frustration boiled over as I stooped to pick them up, the cold seeping into my fingers. Once I loaded the packages into the car, I paused, scanning the bags to mentally tick off my gift list. My stomach dropped as I realized I hadn’t gotten anything for Lila.

With a resigned sigh, I muttered, “Back to the toy store it is.”

Locking the car door, I turned to find Annie standing a few yards away. This time, she wasn’t alone. Two men in dark trench coats flanked her, their beanies pulled low over their foreheads. She flashed a sly smile and gestured toward them.

“What? I need all the help I can get,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, swallowing another groan. “God, please help me,” I repeated, stepping around the group and heading back toward the toy store. The sound of their designer shoes tapping against the sidewalk echoed behind me, grating on my nerves. Why did everything about them have to be so insufferably pretentious?

I glanced up to get my bearings but spotted two more men in dark coats walking in lockstep towards us. I cursed under my breath as a bus rumbled by, kicking up water that went through the men but showered the walk under them. Then, from the other side of the street, a figure emerged. His platinum blond hair glinted faintly, his tan trench coat mirroring mine. The man crossed the street, his steps measured, his presence commanding. I glanced at him warily, but his warm smile disarmed me.

“Got yourself in a bind this time, Allie,” he said, his voice calm and familiar.

I exhaled sharply. “I know, Alex,” I muttered. He turned his attention to the men who had jarringly halted their pursuit.

Annie’s mocking laughter rang out. “Ah, your watchdog finally decides to show up. This should be fun.”

Alex’s expression remained steady as he turned to me. “We should leave.”

“I know,” I admitted, “but I still need to get Lila’s gift.”

He nodded solemnly. “Alright. I’m right behind you.”

We passed the men in front of us, who gave us a wide berth now that my “watchdog” was there. I scoffed as I entered the aptly named toy store once more. So rude, Annie… yet what else should I expect from a—

The door slammed behind us, jolting me out of my thoughts. The jingle bell dislodged and clattered to the wooden floor. Alex tensed, his hand darting to the revolver under his coat. He turned back to me and nodded as the warm glow of the lights in the store snapped away into darkness.

“It’s always a trap with these kinds,” he muttered grimly.

 I instinctively checked my Apple Watch, but the screen remained stubbornly blank, unresponsive to my touch. A knot of unease formed in my stomach. At least I wasn’t wasting any time with these shenanigans.

“I just want to get the toy and get out of here,” I mumbled aloud.

“It’s more than a toy, though,” Alex and a disembodied Annie said in unison. Her voice sent a chill down my spine. Alex cocked the revolver, his eyes scanning the shadows as he steadied his aim in the darkness.

Knowing she was goading me, I chose not to answer. Instead, I stepped behind Alex.

“Can’t we just go out the door?” I whispered as I steadied my hands on his back. He shook his head.

“The only way out is through it. Keep your guard up.”

We stepped through an empty archway into an even darker room. The lights flickered on suddenly, their harsh brightness stinging our eyes. As I blinked to adjust, Alex let out a low growl. I followed his gaze, and my heart sank.

In the middle of the room stood the felt beaver family from the display. But as we approached, the figures began to change. They grew larger, their soft forms hardening into lifelike shapes. Within moments, I was staring at a frozen tableau of my husband, Martin, and myself. I cradled a baby in my arms, while a toddler whose face I couldn’t discern clung to Martin’s leg. The scene radiated peace and joy—a cruel contrast to the ache in my heart. We looked so serene, so…

Happy.

“Is it not a beautiful thing to want?”

Annie stepped out and leaned casually against the frozen version of myself, her eyes gleaming with malice. Alex raised his revolver, aiming directly at her, but she didn’t flinch.

“Go ahead,” she said, her tone taunting. “Shoot. It won’t change the truth.”

I clenched my fists, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I swallowed hard, trying desperately not to let my heart plummet into my stomach. I squeezed my eyes shut. After a moment, though, I felt foolish, knowing it wouldn’t help. I let out my breath and opened my eyes to meet her salacious gaze.

“Yes,” I admitted quietly, my voice trembling. “It is a beautiful thing to want.”

“And you’ve wanted it for a long time, haven’t you.” She began walking around the frozen version of me, tracing her hand along my shoulders. “All those little plastic sticks, all those prayers, all those endless cycles and tracking, and all those mornings where your hope was crushed.” She paused, lifting a finger to the sky and her eyes tipping upwards. “But wait!”

Knowing what she was about to say, I tried to keep my eyes open, but my gaze fell to the floor as she spoke.

“There was… one time. One time where your dreams did come true.”

Alex barely shook as he took the shot, the room erupting with sound. Annie disappeared, along with the tableau of Martin and I. The room was empty, save for the smoke wafting from the barrel of Alex’s gun. He grumbled and scanned the room.

“Don’t let her deceive you,” Alex admonished, his voice soft and hard to hear, though he looked like he was speaking normally. I nodded and let him lead the way.

We entered a new room, its shelves stuffed with toys of every kind, all glinting in warm amber light. Aside from the cacophony of tin and wood, it was a homey place but still a far cry from the inviting warmth of the toy store. Alex moved ahead, scanning the room with his revolver. If the window was an I Spy book, this was an I Spy nightmare. A twinkle caught my eye, and I saw a beautifully crafted Christmas Pyramid—a delicate, rotating tower powered by candlelight. For a brief moment, its gentle motion entranced me, offering a fleeting sense of calm.

 I turned back to Alex to find him gone.

“Alex?” I squeaked, my eyes scanning the store. He was nowhere to be found. “Alex?!”

A faint creaking noise drew my attention downward. A wooden toy snake slithered across the floor, its segmented body clicking with every movement. I stumbled back, bumping into one of the dark-coated men. His hand clamped over my mouth before I could scream. I struggled against him and tried stomping on his foot. Annie laughed somewhere, and when I opened my eyes —I had shut them?— I was in a warm wooden lodge with a roaring fire in a stone fireplace. I whirled around, but no one was there.

“Alex?!”

Slowly, toys appeared on the floor, with slow-moving children playing with them. I watched as one moved past, chasing his brother. Adults, their parents, appeared, holding fancy Christmas glasses with some bubbly substance inside.

“Do you know who’s here?” Annie’s voice broke the spell.

I turned to find her standing nearby, draped in a stunning red dress. She held a glittering glass in one hand, the other gesturing toward the room. She took a sip of her drink and sighed luxuriously. I reluctantly followed her gaze.

My brother and his wife stood in the corner, laughing with my uncle and aunt. Our friend group was standing nearby, all four of them listening to a story my father-in-law was telling. Another set of cousins ate off a pretty plate on the island.

And lastly, walking in through the door was my best friend and her husband, with her husband holding their daughter Lila. My stomach twisted when I saw her cradling her pregnant belly.

But she was struggling with secondary infertility, wasn’t she? I thought bitterly. And yet, here she was, glowing with joy. I turned away as the family greeted them with congratulations, confirming my thoughts. Another friend held out her baby for my mother to hold. All of these children… yet none of them were ours. None of them had come from us. And Martin and I were noticeably absent.

Annie wiggled her finger in front of my friend’s baby. “So cute. So sweet, so innocent. Isn’t it a shame, then, that you don’t have one of your own?” Her strikingly dark eyes met my light-colored ones. She raised a brow as she examined me from head to toe, and I felt as if I were being scrutinized under a microscope. My thoughts returned to the icy cold reaching into my coat as her gaze seemed to do the same.

“Only one child ever came from you, and they didn’t even make it.” She tipped her head as her expression shifted to sorrow. Annie stepped closer, her black heels clicking softly against the wooden floor. “It’s cruel, isn’t it?” she said, her voice a mixture of pity and malice. “You, of all people, would make such a wonderful mother. Everyone here has said as much. And yet…”

She raised her arms, her dark eyes piercing mine. “Why would your God deny you the desires of your heart?” Her last words, though spoken softly, struck me like a physical blow. I gasped for air even as tears sprang to my eyes. Seeing her success, she shook her head to hide a wild grin.

“Yet, isn’t that what you have asked Him all this time? Just when you think you’re doing okay,” she snapped, and the image shifted to the children in my life, my “adopted” nieces — my friends’ daughters who called me auntie — and my cousins’ children gathered around the floor, “you are reminded once again that you cannot have what you so desperately want. Even Martin has a hard time with it. So why, then, would your God forsake you like this?”

I refused to raise my gaze as she took another obnoxious step closer. I could imagine the gleeful animosity exuding from her as another click announced her ever-growing proximity.

“Poor Allie. The woman who can’t get pregnant— or, when she does, can’t carry for long — is surrounded by those who have what she can’t. It’s a constant reminder, hmm?”

I blinked rapidly as I struggled to maintain my composure, my vision blurred by the hot tears threatening to spill over. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, the pressure building in my chest. Annie stepped beside me and cooed, “What a disappointment.”

Bullets ripped through the facade, and Annie lurched out of the way. I grunted as Alex grabbed my arm and swung me back through the doorway, two more men in tan coats standing to the side and firing into the room.

“What does His Word say?” Alex shouted over the blaring gunfire. I had covered my ears, the tears still streaming down my face. He did a double-take, then lowered his gun to kneel and cup my cheeks as the others took up the fight.

“What does He say?” He whispered. I gulped for air and nodded, blowing out to catch my breath.

“That—that He will never leave me nor forsake me.”

The revolvers in the tan-clad men’s hands morphed into double-barrels. Alex’s smile was gentle but firm.

“And?”

“That He… He has a good plan for me and my family. That He sees me and knows me and loves me.”

The guns shifted again, and this time, shotguns rang out. The army in black coats — now with even more men than before — ducked out of the way as the barriers and tables and toys surrounding them shattered, splintered, and exploded.

Alex smiled and patted my shoulders, his voice unwavering. “And?”

I slowly exhaled, swallowing hard as I breathed normally despite my still teary cheeks. “That nothing is impossible with God.”

The shotguns morphed into Tommy guns. The men glanced at each other, broke into wild grins, and gunned down the adversary with a shout of victory. Alex hugged me against his chest as the gunfire finally began to cease. He pulled me away after a moment and helped me stand. The other men ran their hands through their hair and chuckled, nodding at me. I smiled softly as a triumphant grin spread across Alex’s face.

A single shot pierced the darkness.

Alex caught me as I stumbled, his eyes lowering as I pulled my hand away from my stomach, my palm coated in blood. Behind me, Annie stood with a smoking pistol, her smirk victorious.

“I’ll always leave my mark,” she whispered maniacally.

Large tears rolled down my face as I shook my head, slowly meeting Alex’s concerned gaze.

“I don’t want to hope anymore. I’m so… so tired.”

Alex nodded and cupped my cheek with one hand as the other men stepped beside us. With an audible whoosh, their angelic wings unfurled and covered us from any other adversary. I could hear more gunfire start up, but within the safety of their wings, the sound was deafened.

“He knows you are. He knows how weary and troubled you are.” He bent down to meet me eye-to-eye, placing his hand over mine against my stomach. “And He can do much with what little there is left.”

I closed my eyes and rasped in a breath. “How much longer?” I choked hoarsely, waiting to open my eyes. When I did, Alex shook his head, his eyes full of sorrow.

“I don’t know, Beloved of the Lord. But He does. Do you trust Him?”

After several moments, I nodded. He pulled his hand away, and the wound had closed up. I could still strangely feel it, though, as if it wasn’t entirely gone. He drew me in for a hug, his wings unfurling and surrounding us in a flash of white.

When I opened my eyes, I was standing back in the toy store in front of the woodland creature display. The dim light and chaotic sounds of the battle were gone. Instead, the shop was quiet, its warm glow returning. My arms felt heavy, and I glanced down to see the bags and boxes still hanging from them. I blinked, disoriented, as the familiar scent of pine and cinnamon filled the air.

“Ma’am?”

I turned, and the elderly shopkeeper stood there, her pretty silver hair pulled back in a bun and the spectacles on her face reminiscent of Mrs. Claus’. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

“Are y’allright?” She asked thickly. I swallowed, glanced back at the display, then nodded.

“Yes, thank you. It’s just… it’s been a long day.”

The woman smiled warmly. “I bet it has! You seem to be drawn to the Woodland Wonder dolls. They’re very popular. I just got this shipment in a few days ago!”

I turned back to the felt animals. “I see. I’d like to get these,” I pointed toward the little fox family I knew Lila would love. The woman nodded.

“Here, let me get those for you! You’ve done an awful lot of shopping, haven’t you?”

As she led me to the register, I laughed. “Yes, and I hate that I’m doing it so late.”

“Sometimes, that’s just how years go. But the good thing is that you’re doing it just in time, hmm?”

I nodded in agreement as she rang up the foxes. My eyes caught a small jar labeled Words of Encouragement, and she followed my gaze. Inside were small strips of paper folded up into rectangles.

“Our owner sets those out for anyone to take. Please, feel free to take one.”

I did so, wrestling with the bags to open the paper. My heart dropped into my stomach as I read the small words.

“Alright, your total is fifteen dollars and forty-two cents. Cash or card?”

I leaned back. “On second thought, I’ll be right back.”

***

I finished setting the bags on the ground, sighing in relief. There really was no place like home. Our golden retriever’s tail wagged a million miles a minute as he inspected all the bags, and our two cats waited expectantly for a box to be freed up for them to occupy. I laughed under my breath, setting my purse and keys on the counter. I spotted a bag and pulled out its contents as Martin appeared around the corner, planting a kiss on my cheek as he examined my haul.

“Wow. Great job, hon. Did you forget anything in that mountain of gifts?!”

I gently smacked him, though my grin betrayed me. He began helping me unload as I stepped over to the fireplace. He leaned back and watched as I opened the box and began fussing with the decorations above the hearth.

“What did you get?”

I shrugged, suddenly feeling foolish. “Something.”

He stepped up beside me as I stepped back, admiring my work.

“A Christmas beaver family? What about an Antelope?”

I laughed heartily. “They didn’t have your animal there, sorry!”

He kissed me, reaching around my side to hold me close. “It’s beautiful though. Very cute.”

“Mhm.”

We turned away, the small piece of paper with Jeremiah 32:27 on it sitting nearby. For once, hope didn’t feel as much of a burden as before.

 Is anything too hard for Me?


©A. L. Bowker. All Rights Reserved.

Permission is granted to students and critics to quote excerpts from this post for purposes of academic study, research, and critical commentary, provided proper citation is included. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from the author is strictly prohibited.

For permissions beyond the scope of this notice, please contact [email protected]