This is a story I have just started. I'm hoping to have it finished for the next Christmas season. I will take it back to the late 1800's...early 1900's and tell the story of a family that migrated to the West and end with the birth of a son on Christmas morning.

Chapter 1

He stood and walked slowly over to the plate glass window next to the door. He had put it in so his beloved Maddy could see her flowers blooming in spring time. Ahhh, his beautiful Maddy, wouldn’t she be a proud woman if she was here right now and she could see the lovely family that her death had brought forth on that frightful and stormy night. It was Christmas Eve thirty six years ago tonight when he lost his beloved Maddy.
Taking a long and deep draw on his pipe, Timothy Mc Duff looked out over his land. “Maddy girl,” he says while sighing deeply, “I never thought I would live this long with out you.” He turns away from the window and slowly walks back to his rocker. He can feel the strain in his sixty-eight year old body as he lowers himself into his chair, observing his grandchildren putting the finishing touches on the tree that Evan cut down for the family this morning.
Aye…and a grand tree it is. Standing a might taller than Evan’s own 6 and half feet, it was a grand sight to see the strings of popcorn, hand carved figurines, and brass bells that adorned its branches. Evan was lifting little Liam onto his shoulder so that he could place their beloved Angel at the top of the tree. It had a delicately painted smile on white porcelain glass with a dress of white that was made of the finest silk and lace. In each hand she held a candlestick made of gold.
His Maddy had admired it from afar every time he took to town. The year Evan was born was the Christmas he had purchased it for her. Little Liam raised his arms and was easily able to set the beautiful doll atop the tree on the tallest branch. There, now, it truly was a sight to behold. That angel has been guarding his family for thirty six years, every since the night those two young men found their way to their farm.
Gramps!” cried Liam, “Tell us the story.”
“Oh, yes!” added Tara, “Please tell us the story of our miracle.”

Timothy McDuff has told this story each Christmas Eve now for the last four years; ever since little Tara was six. He chuckled to himself and agreed.
“All right you two settle yourselves right down here and get cozy. Gramps is going to tell you about our miracle.” He took another long draw on his pipe, looked down into their bright, shinny, blue eyes and began...