Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. It’s magical, full of family, warmth, and tradition. My name’s Dorothy, and I live with my husband Jerry and our eight-year-old daughter, Ruth. Every December, Ruth writes a letter to Santa, and though it’s a little quirky, it’s become part of our holiday fun. She carefully folds the letter and tucks it in the freezer.
“It’s how the mail gets to the North Pole, Mom! I saw it on TV,” she told me one year, her big eyes full of excitement.
This year, like all the others, Ruth spent hours at the dining table, scribbling on her letter while popping chocolate-covered almonds into her mouth. “Done, Mommy!” she sang, skipping to the freezer with all the ceremony of a queen making a royal decree.
I smiled, expecting the usual wishes—maybe a new doll, a set of paints, or the glittery unicorn toy she’d been eyeing. Ruth wasn’t a child who asked for much. Even on her birthday, the only thing she wanted was a huge chocolate cake. Christmas was the one time she made wishes, and I loved making those wishes come true.
That night, after Jerry read her a bedtime story, I couldn’t resist sneaking into the kitchen to peek at her letter. It had become my little tradition, reading about the magic she believed in, the reasons she thought she deserved to be on the “Nice” list.
But when I unfolded the letter, my heart stopped. The page was filled with Ruth’s bubbly handwriting and a drawing of heart-shaped earrings. Beneath the picture were the words:
“Dear Santa, please bring me the same heart-shaped earrings Dad gave to my nanny! Thank you!”
I froze. The room seemed to grow cold. Jerry had given Gloria, our nanny, heart-shaped earrings?
My hands trembled as I read the note again. What was going on? Why would Ruth ask for earrings like Gloria’s? Why had Jerry given Gloria jewelry? The questions swirled in my head, growing louder with each passing second. Could it be that Jerry had been hiding something from me? Was he having an affair with our nanny?
I replayed little moments in my mind—Jerry laughing with Gloria, the way he’d always ask her to stay late when I had work functions, the thoughtful gifts he’d given her over the years. They seemed innocent enough, but now they felt different, like pieces of a puzzle I’d never noticed before. Was I blind to what had been going on right under my nose?
The next morning, I went through the motions like nothing had changed. I kissed Jerry goodbye as he left for work, pretending everything was fine, but inside, I was falling apart. My mind was racing with questions, doubts, and fears.
I turned to Gloria as she poured milk for Ruth’s cereal. “What’s on the agenda for today?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“We’re going to work on Ruth’s school projects,” Gloria said with a smile. “Then we’ll read together.”
“Sounds good,” I replied, though my stomach was in knots. “I have work to do, so I’ll be in the study most of the day. But we’ll grab smoothies later, Ruthie. You can leave early, Gloria.”
Gloria nodded as she took Ruth outside for their usual bird-watching routine. Once they were gone, I grabbed my laptop and ordered a nanny cam. It felt surreal, like I was stepping into a bad soap opera. I hated that I couldn’t just confront Jerry right away, but if he denied everything, I’d still have no answers. The camera arrived hours later, and I set it up in the living room, hidden among the Christmas decorations.
I had to know.
The following day, I saw that the nanny cam app had detected motion. I opened the app, and my heart sank. Jerry was in the living room. He wasn’t supposed to be home.
I stared at the screen, my mind racing. Jerry handed Gloria a small gift-wrapped box, and she opened it. My hands shook as I watched her face light up, her smile widening as she looked at what was inside. It was a small, delicate piece of jewelry. I didn’t have to see more. I grabbed my things and rushed home.
When I stepped through the door, everything felt wrong. Jerry was standing near the couch, and Gloria was sitting with a heart-shaped pendant in her lap.
“Nice earrings, Gloria,” I spat, my voice thick with sarcasm. “It must be nice to get all these gifts from my husband. Jewelry from another woman’s husband…”
Gloria’s face went pale. She opened her mouth to say something, but Jerry quickly stepped forward.
“Dot, stop,” he said, using the nickname he knew would calm me down. “I can explain.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can,” I shot back, my heart pounding. “And it better be good, because right now, it looks like you’ve been hiding something right under my nose. With our nanny!”
Jerry sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. “You weren’t supposed to find out this way.”
“That’s your excuse? You weren’t supposed to get caught?” I could feel the anger rising in me.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Jerry said quickly, trying to calm me. “Just… just listen, okay? Those earrings. They’re not from me. Not really.”
“What do you mean?” I demanded, my confusion deepening.
Jerry hesitated, his voice breaking as he took a deep breath. “They were from Brian. My best friend.”
I blinked, my mind struggling to comprehend his words. “Brian? Who’s Brian?”
Gloria spoke for the first time, her voice soft and tinged with sadness. “Brian was Jerry’s best friend, Dorothy. My brother.”
Everything went silent. Jerry sat me down, and I listened, heart racing, as he explained everything.
“Fourteen years ago, Brian passed away from cancer,” Jerry said, his voice low. “Before he died, he asked me to take care of Gloria. To look after her. She was only 19 at the time, and she’d just lost her parents.”
I glanced at Gloria, whose eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
“Brian left me a box of gifts for her,” Jerry continued. “He wanted her to have them for the important moments in her life—birthdays, milestones, times when she needed to feel like he was still with her. He planned all of this while he was undergoing chemo.”
I was speechless. I had no idea.
“The earrings were part of that gift,” Jerry said softly. “They were from Brian, not me. I’ve been fulfilling his promise to her all these years. I should have told you sooner, Dot. I didn’t know how.”
I turned to Gloria, my mind still spinning. “And you didn’t think to tell me? Ruth asked for those earrings, and that’s why I was so upset. She asked Santa for them!”
Gloria shook her head, looking regretful. “I didn’t know she’d even notice them, let alone ask for them. If I had known, I would’ve explained everything right away. I never meant to cause trouble.”
That Christmas was one of the hardest but most healing times I’ve ever had. Jerry and I had a long talk, and while I wasn’t happy about the secrets he’d kept, I couldn’t deny the beauty of the promise he’d made to his best friend. Gloria, too, was part of our family now. Ruth loved her dearly.
So, we sat down with Ruth, a platter of waffles between us, and explained everything. Ruth was fascinated by the story and, as expected, still insisted that Santa bring her a pair of heart-shaped earrings.
And Santa did.
On Christmas morning, Ruth opened a small box, and her eyes lit up when she saw the earrings. She wore them with such joy, her smile brighter than the Christmas tree. For the first time in weeks, my heart felt full of warmth, not doubt.
Those earrings became more than just jewelry. They were a symbol of love—Brian’s love for his sister, Jerry’s loyalty to his friend, and the love that held our family together.
Sometimes, the truth hurts. But sometimes, it heals. And that Christmas, it did both.
