Page 33 of Soldier's Chrismas Hope
“Do you have a newspaper we can spread on the kitchen table?” Nora asked. “This might get a little messy.”
“Sure,” he told her, heading to the living room to grab yesterday’s paper from beside his favorite chair.
He came back to the kitchen and handed it to her before grabbing the peanut butter out of the cupboard as well as two plates and two butter knives. But when he brought them over to the table, he saw that they had brought in four pinecones.
“The kids thought we might like to make some too,” Nora said, her eyes twinkling.
He was surprised at the little sparkle of excitement he felt at joining the kids in their fun task.
It’s the little things,his mom had always said. He figured she was right about that.
He grabbed two more knives and jogged down the basement steps to find the twine.
When he got back up, Nora had everything organized.
“Jingle Bells” came on the radio as he pulled out his pocketknife and set about cutting off lengths of twine.
Nora took the first one and showed the kids how she was making a slipknot to tighten around the top of the cone.
She let them try to do their own for a few minutes,but ended up doing John-John’s for him after he just couldn’t get it to work.
Pixie had better luck, and her little brother cheered for her when she held her string up triumphantly.
River prepared one for himself, and then they all started spreading peanut butter onto the pinecones. By the time they were all rolled in birdseed, each one looked completely different.
Nora had carefully painted each bit of her pinecone so that the seeded parts stood out. Pixie put a thin, mostly even layer of peanut butter on hers so that the whole thing looked uniform, and River had done kind of the same but with a thicker layer of peanut butter. John-John’s peanut butter was applied in generous lumps, making his pinecone look bigger than anyone else’s.
“I think they’re gonna like that,” he said to himself in satisfaction as he looked down at the messy concoction in front of him.
“They sure are,” River told him. “Great job.”
Everyone bundled up again and headed out, with River grabbing the small ladder from the garage.
“We could hang them back up on the tree,” he told the kids. “Or we could hang them from these hooks on the porch ceiling. They’re supposed to be for hanging plants, but I don’t have any plants yet, and it’s too cold anyway. If we put the feeders here, then you can see them from the bench in the kitchen.”
“Yes,” Pixie said excitedly. “Put them there, then we can watch the birds up close from inside.”
River turned to John-John, and he nodded his little head in agreement, looking too pleased to speak.
Though he didn’t really need the ladder, River sensed that the kids were enjoying the sense of drama it added, so he carefully set it up and tested it, then asked Nora to hold the other side.
“That’s called spotting,” he told the children in his most instructional voice. “Ladders can be dangerous. So, you never climb a ladder without a grown-up, and you always make sure it’s set up in a safe place where it won’t tip over.”
They looked up at him, nodding their heads, eyes serious, and he felt another wave of satisfaction.
He’d been in charge of men in the service, of course. But it hadn’t felt like this. The kids were listening to him not because it was their job, but because they liked him and thought he had something worthwhile to share.
They’re not mine,he reminded himself again.
And again, his heart raced on, unconcerned with this information.
When the pinecone bird feeders were all hung up and everyone agreed that the placement was just right, he got off the ladder for the last time, and they all stepped back to admire their handiwork.
“We’re gonna have so many birds,” Pixie said, her eyes shining.
“Will they fight over the food?” John-John asked, suddenly looking worried.
“Of course not,” Nora told him. “We havefourbird feeders. So there will be plenty for everyone.”
