Ella and I crunched the numbers one more time, but no matter how many times we did, my disappointment only grew and grew.

Our shopping cart contained an afghan for Melissa’s parents to share, a couple of remote-controlled fun-looking monster trucks for her brothers, and a curling iron and other hair accessories for Melissa. She had asked me one time how I always did my hair so perfectly, so I thought maybe I could teach her sometime.

Except we didn’t have nearly enough money to buy everything we’d picked out, much less the groceries I’d been hoping to get too. Everything the four of us had scrounged together hadn’t added up to much.

I sighed among the crowds of busy shoppers. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it feels hopeless,” I said. “I really thought we’d be able to do more, but at this rate, we’ll be able to get her brothers something and that’s it.”

Ella gave me a small smile. “Melissa and her parents will be thrilled either way. It’s the thought that counts, Harp. I’m really glad we ended up doing this, even if we can only provide them with a couple of small gifts.”

“I know,” I said, still disappointed. “It’s just that they deserve so much better. They’re such a nice family. Her dad helped us fix the kitchen sink a couple months ago and he wouldn’t take any payment. I just wish we could do something nice for them.”

“But you are,” Ella insisted. “You totally are. Those boys are going to love these monster trucks.”

“You’re right,” I said, even though I was feeling totally deflated.

I wished we could do more.

We got in line, and I took out the other items to take back while Ella waited at the front of the store with our cart. “I’ll be right back,” I said.

She nodded and inched forward. It was clear we were going to be here a while.

I took my time locating the aisle the thick and warm afghan belonged. The red and brown and tan colors had caught my eye, and I thought it would be perfect for Melissa’s parents on a cool night.

Maneuvering around several people rushing to and fro, I spotted the place where I’d found the afghan earlier. Before I could reach it, though, I noticed an older lady standing in front of a display of large-screen TVs. There was a Hallmark Christmas movie playing, and it was obviously about to end because an entire family sat around a Christmas tree, decorated with lights and colorful spheres, and surrounded with wrapped gifts.

What she was staring at, though, wasn’t the gifts but the happy kids itching to open their presents, their parents sitting together and smiling. Obviously, they were the happiest family in the world. All was well.

But this lady wiped at her eyes, and I wondered if she was okay. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well. I looked around, but she seemed to be alone, a shopping cart with some toiletries nearby. If I had to guess, I would have said she was going to be traveling soon because all she had were the tiny travel sizes of shampoo and such.

I quietly approached her, arms full of things I was supposed to be taking back, and my heart broke at the sight of her tear-filled eyes.

Was I the only one in this store full of people who could take the time to ask her if she was okay?

Several men and women walked by without a word or second glance to her.

Gently tapping her on the shoulder, I said, “Ma’am? Are you okay?”

She jumped a little, surprised.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just kind of worried.”

She wiped at her tears and gave me a small smile. “I apologize,” she said. “You must think I’m a silly old woman to be crying in a store like this.”

“Not at all,” I said. “I just hope you’re okay.”

Was it something on the TV? I wondered.

She sighed, grabbed a tissue from her purse, and wiped at the tears. “You must forgive me. The holidays always make me a little blue. You see, I lost a daughter several years ago, but Christmas was her favorite time of year. She loved Hallmark movies. We used to watch them together, and now…”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I frowned, putting my hand on her arm. “This must be so hard for you.”

She dabbed at her eyes again. “I’ll be okay. But thank you.”

I smiled. “No problem. This is actually my favorite time of year too.”

A genuine smile grew on her face, and I was glad for it. “Merry Christmas…” She paused, and I realized I hadn’t told her my name.

“Harper,” I said.

“Oh, what a beautiful name,” she said. “I’m Elizabeth. Well, Merry Christmas to you and your family, Harper. And thank you.”

“Merry Christmas, Ms. Elizabeth,” I said with a final smile.

I went to put the afghan back with the rest of them a few feet away. The feeling of wishing we could do more for Melissa’s family came back, and I sighed.

“Not the right gift?” I heard behind me.

I spun around.

It was Ms. Elizabeth. Her cart was in front of her, but she had turned back to me.

I glanced at the afghan and then at her, wondering how to explain. “It’s the perfect gift, actually. It’s just…I can’t take it after all.”

Her brow knit together. “Oh? You must tell me more.”

She walked right over, and my face turned hot.

“My friends and I—there’s this family, and they can’t afford Christmas this year. So I thought maybe we could—”

She nodded. “I see,” she said. “You really are a wonderfully kind young woman. From what I’ve seen, that’s exceptionally rare these days, Harper. Your family must be very proud of you.”

Her words had me feeling like she’d just given me the Presidential Medal of Honor or something. “Thank you,” I breathed. “I really just wanted to do something nice for them, you know?”

She smiled and didn’t say anything for a second, like she was thinking.

I got ready to excuse myself and find Ella.

“Harper,” she said. “Do you believe in fate?”

I thought about that. “Um, I’m not sure,” I confessed. I had never really thought about it before.

“My daughter, Beatrice? She had this tradition of doing one anonymous good deed every year at Christmas. She wasn’t rich by any means. But she would come here every year and pay off at least one family’s layaway gifts.”

“Wow,” I said, thinking about how Beatrice must have felt doing that.

“Now, having met you, I feel I must continue this tradition in her honor. It won’t exactly be anonymous, but I think she would love it all the same. Would you allow me to help you in your endeavor?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.

My hands came to my mouth in disbelief. “Really?” I said.

“Really,” she said quietly and with a wide smile.

I was speechless.

She reached into her purse, grabbed something, and then put it in my hands. Her hands covered mine, and her eyes welled up with fresh tears. “Thank you, Harper. I’m very glad we met today. You’ve reminded me how to honor my daughter’s memory.”

And with that, she walked away.

I stared down at the money in my hand in complete disbelief.

When I looked up and realized I hadn’t even thought to thank her for being incredibly generous to a family she didn’t even know, she was gone.

I tried to go after her and find her, but it was impossible with the crowds.

So I picked up the afghan again, carefully balancing Melissa’s gifts too, still in shock at what had just happened.

I wasn’t sure if I believed in fate, but one thing I did believe in?

Christmas miracles.