{"id":667,"date":"2008-10-17T19:18:56","date_gmt":"2008-10-18T00:18:56","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/\/?p=667"},"modified":"2008-10-17T19:18:56","modified_gmt":"2008-10-18T00:18:56","slug":"one-perfect-day-by-lauraine-snelling","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=667","title":{"rendered":"One Perfect Day by Lauraine Snelling"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

It is time to play a Wild Card<\/span>!<\/strong> <\/span>Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a>. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his\/her book’s FIRST chapter!<\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n
Lauraine Snelling<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

One Perfect Day <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

FaithWords (October 22, 2008)<\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a>Lauraine Snelling is the award-winning author of more than sixty books, with sales of over 2 million copies. She also writes for a wide range of magazines, and helps others reach their writing dreams by teaching at writer\u2019s conferences across the country. Lauraine and her husband, Wayne, have two grown sons, and live in the Tehachapi Mountains with a cockatiel named Bidley, and a watchdog Basset named Chewy.<\/p>\n

Visit the author’s website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $ 13.99
\nPaperback: 320 pages
\nPublisher: FaithWords (October 22, 2008)
\nLanguage: English
\nISBN-10: 0446582107
\nISBN-13: 978-0446582100<\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Nora<\/p>\n

Gordon, where are you?<\/p>\n

Betsy, a middle-aged yellow Lab, looked up as if she had heard Nora speaking. The two \u2014 owner and pet \u2014 had been best friends for so long that the twins frequently teased their mother about mental telepathy \u2014 with a dog. Betsy thumped her tail and gazed up from her self- assigned spot at Nora\u2019s feet.<\/p>\n

Leaving the bay- window seat, where she\u2019d been staring out at the moon lighting fire to the frost-encrusted winter lawn, which sloped down to the lakeshore, Nora crossed the kitchen to set the teakettle to boiling. Tea always helped in times of distress. She brought out the rose-sprinkled china teapot and filled it with hot water. Tonight was not a mug night but a \u201cstoke up the reserves\u201d night. If there had been snow on the ground, this was the kind of night, with the moon so bright every blade of grass glinted, when she would have hit the ski trails. An hour of cross-country skiing and she\u2019d have been relaxed enough to fall asleep whether Gordon called or not. So, instead, she drank tea. As if copious cups would make her sleep deeply rather than toss and turn. Perhaps she would work on the business plan if she got enough caffeine into her system.<\/p>\n

Betsy\u2019s ears perked up and she went and stood in front of the door to the garage.<\/p>\n

Nora\u2019s heart leaped. Gordon must be home after all. But why hadn\u2019t he called to say he was at the airport? His business trip to Stuttgart, Germany, had already been prolonged and here they were trying to get ready \u2014 with just four days until Christmas. The last one for which she could guarantee the twins would still be home. Her last chance for perfection. When he\u2019d told her a week ago he had to fl y to Stuttgart again, the word \u201cagain\u201d had echoed in her head. Betsy\u2019s tail increased the wag speed and she backed up as the door opened.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom, I\u2019m home.\u201d Charlie, the older twin by two minutes, and named after his father, Charles Gordon Peterson, came through the door in his usual rush. \u201cOh, there you are.\u201d Grinning up at his mother, he paused to pet the waiting dog. \u201cGood girl, Bets, did you take good care of Mom?\u201d Betsy wagged her tail and caught the tip of his nose with her black- spotted tongue. \u201cSmells good in here.\u201d He glanced around the kitchen, zeroing in on the plate of powdered-sugar\u2013dusted brownies. \u201cHeard from Dad?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d Nora cupped her elbows with her hands and leaned against the counter. At five-seven, she found that the raised counter fit right into the small of her back. When they\u2019d built the house, she and Gordon had chosen cabinets two inches higher than normal, since they were both tall. Made for easier work surfaces. \u201cGo ahead, quit drooling and eat. There\u2019s a plate in the fridge for you to pop in the microwave.\u201d \u201cWhere\u2019s Christi?\u201d Charlie asked around a mouthful of walnut- laced brownie.<\/p>\n

\u201cUpstairs. I think she\u2019s finishing a Christmas present.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre we going to decorate the tree tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe were waiting on you.\u201d And your father, but somehow he always manages to not be here at tree- decorating time.
\nWhile Gordon was not a \u201cbah, humbug\u201d kind of guy, his idea of a perfect Christmas was skiing in Colorado. They\u2019d done his last year, with his promise to help make hers perfect this year. Right. Big help from across the Atlantic. While Nora knew he\u2019d not deliberately chosen to be gone this week before Christmas, it still rankled, irritating under her skin like a fine cactus spine, hard to see and harder to dig out. Charlie retrieved his plate from the fridge and slid it into the microwave, all the while filling his mother in on the antics of the children standing in line to visit Santa. Charlie excelled as one of Santa\u2019s elves, a big elf at six feet, with dark curly hair and hazel eyes, which sparkled with delight. Charlie loved little kids; so when this perfect job came up, he took it and entertained them all in his green- and- red elf suit. He could turn the saddest tears into laughter. Santa told him not to grow up, he\u2019d need elves forever.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne little girl had the bluest round eyes you ever saw.\u201d Charlie took his warmed plate out and pulled a stool up to the counter so he could eat. \u201cShe had this one great big tear trickling down her cheek, but I hid behind my hands\u201d \u2014 he demonstrated peekaboo with his fingers \u2014 \u201cand she sniffed, ducked into Santa, caught herself and peeked back at me. When he did his \u2018ho ho ho,\u2019 she looked up at him with the cutest grin.\u201d He deepened his voice. \u201c \u2018And what do you want for Christmas, little girl?\u2019 \u201d Charlie shifted into shy little girl: \u201c \u2018 I \u2014 I want a kitty. My mommy\u2019s kitty died and she needs a new one.\u2019 \u201d He paused. \u201c \u2018And make sure it has a good motor. My mommy likes to hold one that purrs.\u2019 \u201d Charlie came back to himself. \u201cCan you believe that, Mom? That\u2019s all she wanted. She reached up and kissed his cheek, slid off his lap and waved good- bye.\u201d \u201cWhat a little sweetheart.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI checked with Annie, who was taking the pictures, and got their address. You think we could find a kitten that has a good motor at the Humane Society?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAsk Christi, she\u2019d know.\u201d Christi volunteered one afternoon a week at the Riverbend Humane Society and would bring home every condemned animal if they let her. She\u2019d fostered more dogs and cats in the last year than most people did in a lifetime. She\u2019d found homes for them too, except for Bushy, an older white fluffy cat, with one black ear and one black paw. His green eyes captivated her, or at least that was the excuse for his taking up permanent residence. \u201cI will. Be nice if there was a half- grown one with a loud motor.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLoud motor for what?\u201d Christi, Bushy draped across her arm, wandered into the kitchen, a smear of Sap Green oil paint on her right cheek, matching the blob on the back of her right forefinger. Tall at five-nine, with an oval face and haunting grayish blue eyes, she looked every bit the traditional blond Norwegian. As much as Charlie entertained the world, she observed and translated what she saw onto canvases that burst with color and yet drew the eye into the shadows, where peace and serenity lurked. Christi would rather paint than eat or even breathe at times.<\/p>\n

\u201cA little girl asked Santa for a kitty for her mother\u201d \u2014 he shifted into mimic \u2014 \u201c \u2018 \u2019Cause Mommy\u2019s kitty died and she is sad.\u2019 \u201d \u201cThat\u2019s all she wanted?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGee, that\u2019s what I thought too.\u201d Nora motioned toward the teapot and Christi nodded. While her mother poured the tea, Christi absently rubbed the paint spot on her cheek. \u201cThere are three cats for adoption right now. I like the gold one, she loves to be held. The other two would rather roughhouse.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou think it would still be there until after school?\u201d \u201cI\u2019ll call Shawna and tell her to hold it for you. Are you sure you want to do this? What happens if she doesn\u2019t really want it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan anyone turn down one of Santa\u2019s elves?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d go in costume?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI could paint you a card.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, have one started. All I need to do is change the color of the cat. Luckily, I made it white, like Bushy here.\u201d She rubbed her cheek on the cat\u2019s fluffy head. \u201cHow long until we decorate the tree?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGive me five minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, you two start on the lights and I\u2019ll finish the card. You want me to sign it for you?\u201d Christi had taken classes in calligraphy and had taught her mother how to sign all the Christmas cards in perfect script.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know, you\u2019re all right for a girl.\u201d Charlie bounded up the stairs to his room, where all his herpetological friends lived. Arnold, a three- foot rosy boa that should have been named Houdini, was his favorite.<\/p>\n

Nora handed Christi her mug of tea. \u201cTake a brownie with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, Mom. You heard from Dad yet?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d Nora knew her answer was a bit clipped. \u201cSomething must be wrong.\u201d Christi\u2019s eyes darkened in concern. \u201cDid you call him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI tried, cell went right to voice mail.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, he was on it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOr he let the battery run out.\u201d As efficient as Gordon was, you\u2019d think he could remember to plug his phone into the charger. The two women of the family shared an eye rolling.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019ll call.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUnless he\u2019s broken down someplace.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou always tell me not to worry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, advising and doing are two different things.\u201d Nora set her cup and saucer in the dishwasher. \u201cWant to help me unroll the lights?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was going up to finish that card.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nora checked her watch. \u201cTen minutes?\u201d \u201cDone.\u201d Christi scooped Bushy up off the counter, where he\u2019d flopped, and headed up the stairs, not leaping like her brother, but lithe and regal, the residuals of her years of ballet and modern dance.<\/p>\n

Nora and Betsy headed for the living room, but when the phone rang, she did an about- face and a near dive for the wall phone in the desk alcove. \u201cHello.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNora, I\u2019m sorry I didn\u2019t call sooner.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere, you did it again.\u201d She tried to sound harsh, but relief turned her to quivering Jell- O.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cApologize. Now I can\u2019t be mad at you.\u201d His chuckle reminded her of how much she missed him when he was gone.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStill in Stuttgart. Art and I got to talking and I didn\u2019t realize the time passing. I had to get some sleep.\u201d \u201cYou\u2019re up awfully early.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know. Trying to finish up. Is the tree up yet?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat, are you trying to outwait me?\u201d \u201cWhat ever gave you that idea?\u201d He coughed to clear his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust a tickle. Look, I should be on my way home this afternoon. I\u2019ve got to wrap this thing up, but I told them the deadline is noon and I\u2019m heading for the airport at three, come he- heaven or high water.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, don\u2019t worry about the tree.\u201d She slipped into suffering servant to make him laugh again. \u201cThe kids and I\u2019ll get that done tonight.\u201d It worked. His chuckle always made her smile back, even when he couldn\u2019t see her. \u201cThey have school tomorrow, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight. Last day, so there\u2019ll be parties. I have goodie trays all ready to take.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou made Julekaka for the teachers again?\u201d Nora chuckled. \u201cGotta keep my place as favorite mother of high- school students.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that Dad?\u201d Charlie called from the stairs. \u201cTell him to hurry home. I have to . . .\u201d The rest of his words were lost in his rush.<\/p>\n

\u201cCharlie says to hurry home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard him. Give them both hugs from me.\u201d \u201cDo you need a ride from the airport?\u201d She glanced at the clock. Nine p.m. here meant four a.m. in Germany. Good thing Gordon was a morning person.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I\u2019ll take a cab. I love you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou better.\u201d She hung up on both their chuckles. How come just hearing his voice upped the wattage on the lights? And after twenty- two years of marriage. As people so often told them, they were indeed the lucky ones. \u201cPlease, Lord, take good care of him,\u201d she whispered as she blew him a silent kiss. She joined Charlie in the living room, where a blue spruce graced the bay window overlooking the front yard, where she and Gordon had festooned tiny white lights on the naked branches of the maple, which burst into fiery color in the fall, and the privet hedge, which bordered the drive. Lights in icicle mode graced the front eaves, while two tall white candles guarded the front steps. She\u2019d filled pots with holly up the flagstone stairs and hung a swag of pine boughs, red balls and a huge gold mesh bow on the door. \u201cHere.\u201d Charlie handed her the reel of tiny white lights and pulled on the end to plug it in.<\/p>\n

\u201cI already checked them all this afternoon. Just start at the top of the tree.\u201d<\/p>\n

They had a third of the lights on the eight- foot tree when Christi joined them, setting the finished card on the mantel to dry.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t put it in the envelope yet, so don\u2019t forget this in the morning, or are you coming home before going over there? Shawna said she\u2019ll put your name on the golden cat. She\u2019s already been fixed, so she is ready for her new home.\u201d Christi picked up another reel of light strings. \u201cYou need to put them closer together.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, right, Miss Queen Bee has spoken,\u201d Charlie mumbled from behind the tree.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to get huffy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to be bossy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, let\u2019s just get the lights on.\u201d All they had to do was get through this drudgery part and then all would be well. Gordon always tried to skimp on the lights too. Like father, like son. Silence reigned as they wound the lights around the tree branches, punctuated only by a \u201chand me another reel, please\u201d and \u201couch\u201d when a spruce needle dug into the tender spot under the nail. Nora sucked on her finger for a moment to ease the stinging. Inhaling the intoxicating spruce scent brought back memories of the last years and made her grateful again for all the joys they\u2019d had. One more thing to miss tonight, the rehash she and Gordon always did post\u2013tree trimming, when the children had gone to bed, like Monday morning quarterbacking, only with more smiles and laughter. Much of the laughter came because of Charlie\u2019s clowning around.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if she doesn\u2019t like the cat?\u201d Charlie asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen we\u2019ll take it back,\u201d Christi said matter-of-factly.<\/p>\n

\u201cBy \u2018back,\u2019 I\u2019m sure you mean to the Humane Society. Bushy would not like another cat around here.\u201d Nora\u2019s hands stilled. This she needed to clarify.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nora looked up in time to catch a head shake from her daughter and one of the \u201cI\u2019m trying to be patient\u201d looks Christi was so good at. Why was it so quiet? \u201cOh, I forgot to put the music on. Messiah all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

When both twins shrugged, she knew they\u2019d rather have something else, but were giving her the choice. She crossed to the sound system, hit the number three button and waited a moment for Mariah Carey\u2019s voice to flow out. She\u2019d play the Messiah after they went to bed. They\u2019d all attended the \u201c Sing-Along Messiah\u201d concert the second weekend in December.<\/p>\n

At least Gordon had been home for that tradition. A bit later they all three stepped back with matching sighs. \u201cAll right, throw the switch.\u201d She looked at Charlie, who had taken over that job years earlier. This certainly was a night for memories.<\/p>\n

When the tree sprang to life, they swapped grins and nods. The ornaments were the easy part. By unspoken agreement, they decided to hang the ornaments, which they\u2019d bought one per year on their annual family shopping trip and dinner- out tradition, higher in the tree to keep away from batting cat\u2019s paws and a dog\u2019s wagging tail. While the twins snorted at her sentimentality, she hung the ornaments they\u2019d made through the years, some like the Santa face with a cotton ball beard, beginning to look more than a bit scruffy, but dear nevertheless. The ornaments that their Tante Karen had given them through the years on their Christmas presents brought up memories and set the two to recalling each year and what their interest had been then. Nora knew that her sister watched both the twins and the shops carefully through the year to find just the perfect ornament. When the twins had trees of their own, they would already have seventeen ornaments each to take with them. The thought made Nora pause. The home tree would look mighty bare. She hung the crocheted and stiffened snowflakes she had made one year and had given for gifts. Then three little folded- paper- and- waxed stars she\u2019d made in Girl Scouts took their own places.<\/p>\n

When they\u2019d hung the final ornament, they stared at the box with the glorious angel that always smiled benignly from the top of the tree.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s leave that for Dad.\u201d Christi turned toward her mother. \u201cI agree.\u201d Setting the angel just right with a light inside her to make her shimmer was always Gordon\u2019s job \u2014 for years because he was the only one tall enough and now because they wanted him to have a part, no matter how many miles separated them.<\/p>\n

Charlie shrugged. \u201cI am tall enough, you know.\u201d \u201cI know.\u201d Nora gathered her two chicks to her sides and they admired the tree together. \u201cThank you. I know it is late, with school tomorrow, but I really appreciate your helping the tradition continue.\u201d She tried not to sniff, but her body went on automatic pilot.<\/p>\n

Charlie\u2019s arm around her back squeezed and Christi leaned her head against her mother\u2019s. Together they turned and surveyed all the decorations; the mantel was the only thing that Nora changed year after year, and all was done but hanging the Christmas stockings. The hooks waited. Charlie picked up the fl at box that held the cross- stitched or quilted stockings and they each hung up their own. Nora hung hers and Gordon\u2019s, while the kids hung the ones for Bushy and Betsy. \u201cNow Santa can come.\u201d Christi smoothed the satin surfaces of her crazy- quilt stocking, with every satin or velvet piece decorated with intricate embroidery stitches, cross- stitch, daisy chain and feather. \u201cWhen I get married, will you make my husband a sock to match?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will.\u201d Just please don\u2019t be in too big a hurry. Not that Christi was dating anyone. She often said she left all the flirting up to her brother, since all the girls were after him all the time. But Nora often wondered if Christi was a bit jealous, not that she would ask. Her daughter talked more with her father than she did with her mother. Unless, of course, it was a real female thing.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnyone for cocoa? The real kind? I can make it while you get ready for bed. I\u2019ll bring the tray up.\u201d \u201cAnd brownies?\u201d Charlie asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cFattigman?\u201d Christi loved the traditional Norwegian goodies Nora made only at Christmastime. \u201cOf course, and since you\u2019ll be getting home early tomorrow, you can help me with the sandbakles.\u201d Charlie groaned. Pressing the buttery dough into the small fluted tins was not his idea of fun.<\/p>\n

\u201c \u2018He who eats must press.\u2019 \u201d Christi sang out the line her mother had often repeated since the time they were little. Nora watched her two swap shoulder punches as they climbed the stairs. No matter how much they teased each other or argued, the bond between them ran deeper than most siblings. Gordon called it spooky; she figured it was a gift from God.
\nTime to make cocoa, as her family had called it. In her mind, hot chocolate came in a packet or tin. Good thing she\u2019d picked up the miniature marshmallows. Betsy padding beside her, she returned to the kitchen to fix the tray. If only Gordon were here. Carrying the tray up the stairs was his job.<\/p>\n

Copyright 2008 Lauraine Snelling<\/p><\/div>\n

MY REVIEW:<\/strong><\/h3>\n

What can I say about One Perfect Day<\/a>? I struggled to finish it – not because the writing was poor or because I couldn’t identify with the characters. To the contrary, this was a very sad story and I could literally feel the grief of the Peterson family and the gratefulness of the Montgomerys.<\/p>\n

One Perfect Day<\/a> tells the story of both sides organ donation. It gets up close and personal with one family’s tragedy and grief while at the same time depicting the hope and joy of the family that literally receives the gift of life. It is a well written story with characters who could be your friends or neighbors. Just be sure that if you read it, have a full box of tissues close at hand.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his\/her book’s FIRST chapter! You never know when […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-667","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/667","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=667"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/667\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":671,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/667\/revisions\/671"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=667"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=667"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=667"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}