Spot hunkered down behind the Methodist Church out of the wind. The man would be coming out any minute and always brought half a sandwich to give her. This time of the year the sun set early, leaving her to a long, cold night.

She heard the door open. The light came on and the man stepped out. She’d given up trying to get inside. Spot remembered a time when she lived in a house. That was four winters ago after the summer she’d had puppies. She didn’t know what she’d done wrong but her people took the puppies away too soon. She remembered how much her teats hurt from the milk she had still been producing.

They’d called her into the car and Spot thought they’d forgiven her. They brought her here and after letting her out in a park, they got back in the car and didn’t let her in. She’d run after them but she was too slow and she watched the car drive away.

The man from the church walked toward her. “Here you go, girl.” He put the sandwich on a flat rock and backed off. She approached, tail wagging but keeping an eye on him as she gobbled the food. She’d tried to approach people at first. Boys threw rocks at her. People kicked her away from their front doors. Old ladies turned their hoses on her. Now she kept her distance. But this man didn’t yell or throw things. So she let him get near but not too close.

“We’re having a midnight service tonight, so don’t be afraid.”

Spot licked her chops and trotted to her bed under the tree after he drove away. She’d scratched together the needles to make a bed she could burrow into, curl up, and sleep out of sight. She felt safe there.

After awhile she woke to the sound of cars pulling into the church parking lot. Spot raised her head to sniff. It was cold and she didn’t smell any food so she curled up again. Soon the sound of the church organ escaped the building and Spot could hear the people singing. She dreamed of having a home again, a soft bed, and regular food.

She woke again to the sound of bells just as a small girl stroked her head. The dog leapt out of her bed, a snarl deep in her throat.

“Don’t be afraid, puppy,” the girl lisped. She sat on the needles and held out a cookie. “I brought you a present.”

Spot could smell the peanut butter. She loved peanut butter. The girl didn’t seem to be a threat and the cookie was tempting so she took a hesitant step toward the out stretched hand.

“That’s a good puppy,” the girl coo’d. “Santa is coming tonight and the baby Jesus says we have to be nice.”

Spot crept closer, a wary eye on the girl.

“You can have it. It’s good.”

The dog took the cookie gently from the child’s hand, her Labrador genes kicking in, and gulped it down.

“Good puppy.” She reached out to pet Spot’s head.

The dog jerked back but remembered how nice it was to be petted. She inched toward the girl.

“What a nice puppy.” The girl lightly stroked the dog’s head, scratching behind an ear.

Spot pushed her head into the girl’s hand, remembering the feeling.

The girl got up. “Come on, puppy. We’re having a Nativity. I’m a visitor to the manger. You can be my dog.” She stepped away.

Spot stayed.

She waved to the dog. “Come on, you can be in the nativity, too.”

Spot followed the girl into the church. It smelled of many people, wax, candle smoke and food long gone.

The girl led the dog down a hallway and through a door. Spot stayed close to the girl as she walked to the group in front of all the people. There were standing around a manger. A choir was behind them singing. The girl walked to the center of the group and waved the dog over. “Come on, puppy,” she whispered. “You can sit beside me.”

Slowly Spot moved beside the girl and sat down. The man who gave her food was in the pulpit behind them and he quietly spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a true Christmas miracle here with us tonight. Mandy has made friends with the dog who shelters here on our property. I’ve been trying for a year to make friends with this dog. And now, by the grace of God, she’s here, at our Nativity, proving the everlasting love of our Lord.”

The Nativity group stayed in place as the congregation broke into their next hymn. Spot lay down at Mandy’s feet. When the service was over, Mandy knelt down and hugged the dog.

Her parents walked over to her and the Minister came down from the pulpit. “Carolyn, Ted, thanks for coming tonight.” He shook hands with Ted.

“What about this dog, Pastor. Is it safe?”

“Oh yes,” the minister told them. She’s a nice dog. Can you take her in?”

Mandy looked up at her parents, eyes bright. “Oh please, Mom, Dad. She’s a good puppy. See!” The girl indicated the dog, head on paws. Spot’s ears perked.

“Well, she’s pretty dirty,” Carolyn said. “Where would she sleep?”

“With me,” Mandy chirped “In my room.”

The mother’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t know about that, Mandy.”

“It’ll be alright, Carolyn,” her husband said. “You sure the dog is friendly?” He looked at the pastor.

“I’m sure. And it’s Christmas after all. What better time to show the love of God?”

Carolyn stared at the filthy dog. “Well, I guess a bath would improve the smell.” She looked into her daughter’s expectant face. “OK. I guess we’ll take her in.”

Mandy hugged Spot. “I’ll call her Grace.”

“A good name,” the pastor smiled.

They left the sanctuary, Grace trotting at Mandy’s heels. She was finally going home.

The End

997 Words

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