Love in a Nutshell – December: The Sparkle Returns
Here us the December installment of Love in a Nutshell – A Maple Lane Mystery—a story of twinkle lights dimmed by grief, a house missing its sparkle, and the quiet return of joy, one memory at a time.
Love in a Nutshell – December: The Sparkle Returns
Tori Rae Davis had always been the one who loved Christmas. Her porch won ribbons every year. Her peppermint mocha game was strong. She coordinated Maple Lane’s holiday window display contest like a pro. But this year? She couldn’t bring herself to open a single box of decorations.
Her house on Holly Street looked like it belonged to someone else—quiet, undecorated, still.
Last December had been her dad Henry’s last. She’d left her job at the Maplewood Gazette to care for him full-time. They’d spent afternoons watching old Christmas movies, sipping cider, and talking about his days playing football at the University of Illinois. When he passed just after New Year’s, something in her spirit froze.
She kept telling people she was “fine.”
Even now, though she’d taken on some temporary design work again at the Gazette and was back part-time at the Maplewood Rec Center, she still felt like she was walking with one foot on thin ice. The joy she used to pour into ornaments and wreaths just... didn’t show up.
That’s when Marcus, her older brother, showed up with a ridiculous idea and a sleigh full of patience.
He had just taken a new role at Maplewood University, overseeing event maintenance and setups, and he came with his wife and twin girls—who had very strong opinions about Aunt Tori’s lack of twinkle lights.
“Aunt Tori,” six-year-old Millie said one night, “your house looks sad.”
Marcus added gently, “Maybe it’s time for a little sparkle to come back.”
Tori hesitated, until one evening Marcus handed her a box. Inside was the leather jacket—their father’s—polished, worn, and warm.
“I wore it to work last week,” Marcus said, “and it felt like Dad was walking with me. I thought maybe you needed to feel that too.”
It was like a key turned in her heart.
That weekend, she opened the decoration boxes. She didn’t go big—just the lights in the window, a wreath made with pieces of her dad’s old flannel shirts, and one light-up angel by the fireplace. But it felt right.
Then the mystery began.
Her old neighborhood friend, Mrs. Honeycutt, stopped by to say the angel in Tori’s window? It used to be hers. Someone had donated it years ago, and it found its way to Tori through a secondhand shop.
Now they wondered—what else in Tori’s home came from people who once loved these holidays deeply? They started calling it Operation Christmas Spirit, tracing the lineage of pre-loved decorations around Maple Lane.
Tori and Marcus, with the twins and a few church friends, began returning old items to original families—or sharing the stories behind them in a photo essay for the Gazette’s Christmas Eve edition.
As the paper went to print and lights sparkled across town, Tori sat by the fire in her dad’s jacket, sipping cider.
“Maybe,” she whispered, “the sparkle never really left. It just waited for me to be ready.”
Scripture Reflection:
Isaiah 60:1 (NIV)
“Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.”
Journal Prompt:
Is there a part of the holiday season that feels different this year? What memories might you carry forward in a new way—and how might God be gently leading you back to joy?
Comments
Post a Comment