A Christmas Jar for Santa: A Christmas Jars Story (2 page)

Todd Franklin made it all
worthwhile. I don’t know what made him so special,
really.

I’ve seen hundreds like
him. I guess it was just the combination of his smile, Erin’s hand
on my shoulder, and his sweet six-year-old voice saying, “Can I ask
for something for somebody else?”

“
Of course you
can.”

“
I want my mommy to have a
new dishwasher. Ours is broken, and it’s a lot of work to wash
dishes in the sink.”

“
Do you help your mom do
the dishes, Todd?”

“
Why do you think I want
her to get a new dishwasher?”

I let out the first
bowl-f-of-jelly laugh I’ve enjoyed in seven years.

Last Wednesday, Christmas
Eve, Erin took the last box of gifts over to the homeless shelter
and told me to go home. I was exhausted. We really had pulled out
all the stops this year, and I was looking forward to climbing into
my bed. As I pulled into my driveway, I saw that I had left the
light on in the kitchen.

I went to turn it off and
noticed that someone had been in there since I left. There was a
plate of cookies and a tall glass of milk on my little table. Next
to that was a large jar with “Christmas Jar” written on
it.

Now I know about Christmas
jars. I have heard about nearly every Christmas tradition there is.
What I couldn’t figure out is how somebody could think that I would
ever accept a jar full of money as a Christmas gift. Whoever did it
must have known that I would just turn around and use the money to
buy gifts for next year. “Maybe that’s what they expected,” I
thought as I opened the jar.

The silver coins I had seen
through the glass weren’t coins, though, at least not the money
kind. They were large wooden coins painted silver. I picked one up
and put my glasses back on. On one side were written the words
“Merry Christmas.” On the other side was the name Todd Franklin and
the number 6. The words were obviously written by Todd. I picked up
another. “Sarah Lynch, 11.” I quickly sifted through several more.
“Amber Templeton, 3.” “Kelly Winston, 27,” “Katherine Collier, 21.”
“Allen Christensen, 30.”

There were one hundred
thirty-five coins in that jar, and every one of them had a name and
an age on it. It took me an hour to go through them all because I
had to stop and think of every child. I had to blow my nose and
wipe my eyes a few times, too.

“
Who did this,” I wondered
out loud.

On the table where the jar
had been was a folded piece of paper. My blurry eyes had missed it.
I opened it and read:

Dear Santa,

You made us all believe.
Thank you.

Love, Erin.

P.S. See you next
year.

Maybe I have one more year
in me after all.

May your Christmas
Jar

overflow with the joys of
the season.

*****

About the
author:

Jason Wright is a New York
Times, Wall Street Journal and USAToday bestselling author. He is
also a political commentator and the co-founder of
http://www.politicalderby.com
, a popular website for political junkies.

Articles by Jason have
appeared in over 50 newspapers and magazines across the United
States including The Washington Times, The Chicago Tribune, and
Forbes. He is the author of
The James
Miracle
(2004);
Christmas Jars
(2005);
The Wednesday Letters
(2007);
Recovering Charles
(2008),
Christmas Jars
Reunion
(2009);
Penny's Christmas Jar Miracle
(2009);
The Cross Gardener
(2010);
The Seventeen
Second Miracle
(2010); and
The Wedding Letters
(2011).

Jason is also a popular speaker who speaks
on the origin of the Christmas Jar movement, the Joy of Service,
the lost art of letter writing and other topics. He has been seen
on CNN, FoxNews, C-SPAN, and on local television affiliates around
the country.

Jason is from
Charlottesville, Virginia, but has also lived in Germany, Illinois,
Brazil, Oregon and Utah. In 2007, while researching Virginia’s lush
Shenandoah Valley for his novel
The
Wednesday Letters
, Jason fell so in love
with the area that he moved his family westward from northern
Virginia into the heart of the Valley.

T
o learn more about the Christmas Jars tradition,
visit:
http://www.christmasjars.com

Cover Design by Christy Y. Jenkins