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This story is a bit on the long side, so I gave it its own page in the blog. Follow the link to read the whole thing.

This story is part of a collection I put together called “My Best Christmas and Other Stories of the Season.” It can be purchased at Amazon.com

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The late December morning Florida sun shone bright and clear. They stood there, the two of them, at the open grave. They needed just a minute more, so Roger, Janey’s father, said he would wait for the two of them in the car.

The old country cemetary was the last plot of ground in those parts not covered by citrus orchards.  In spite of the somber setting and the potential for sadness, for some there was a peacefulness that permeated the place.

The sun’s light slanted through the fruitless branches casting long shadows across the final earthly resting place of their friend.   Janey wrapped her arm around the old man’s shoulders.  “He’s home now… with Jesus.”  She hugged him.  “He was a good friend,” she said.

His somber gaze shifted from the opening in the soil to her moist eyes. He patted Janey’s hand in agreement. A year ago he would have had a hard time admitting to a friendship of any kind with the man. But a lot had happened. A lot had changed. And now, his slight smile and silent nod said everything that needed to be said as he replayed in his mind his time with his best friend.

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“Hey! Whatcha doin’ under there?” ……. Read more