Page 32 of Devotion

My heart flutters. My mind whirls. Finally I can’t stand the suspense any longer, so I very carefully loosen the ribbon and undo the paper, making sure I don’t tear it in the process.

When the paper is off, I smooth it out and place it on the seat beside me. Then I peer at the small box from all angles. It’s just a cardboard box.

I lift the top and look inside.

Frowning, I cautiously pull something out.

It’s an even smaller box, but this one is made of some sort of hard material. It’s glossy and a gorgeous bronze color. The surface is carved with intricate decorations. The box has small, gracefully curved feet.

It’s beautiful and looks antique. It must be pre-Fall. They don’t make anything like this anymore.

Using two fingers, I lift the lid to the box. I gasp when music starts to play. A small figure in white with a halo and a harp rises from the interior and spins around. The inside of the lid is mirrored and reflects the spinning angel.

I gaze down at it in awe, listening to the pretty, archaic tune. I can’t move, but my heart is throbbing in my chest and my throat and my ears.

I haven’t moved or pulled myself together when the door to the room opens and Gabriel strides in. He’s damp and wearing his pool robe. He starts toward the bathroom like normal, but he pauses when he sees me sitting and staring down at the lovely object in my lap.

“It’s a music box,” he says when I don’t move and don’t speak. “It’s probably at least two hundred years old. I thought you might like it.”

“Like it?” I have to clear my throat to continue. “Likeit? It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. But why?—”

“Oh. It’s Christmas. Today.” Unexpectedly, he looks almost sheepish.

“Christmas?” I blink. Naturally I’ve heard of the holiday, but no one has celebrated it in my lifetime. At least not that I’ve ever heard about. “It is?”

“Yes. The music is an old Christmas carol.”

“It’s… amazing.” I finally manage to move my head. I stare at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “You’re giving this to me?”

“Yes. Of course.” He shifts from foot to foot. “I know people here don’t celebrate Christmas much, but we always did. My family. And you’re the only person I have to give a gift to. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind?” I smile, shaky and emotional. “Thank you so much. I love it more than anything. I can’t believe you got me this. Where did you ever find it?”

“I used an antique dealer.”

I gasp again. “Then it’s way too expensive! You shouldn’t have?—”

“Yes, I should have.” He’s scowling at me now. “Stop fussing. It’s Christmas. I give presents. It’s no big deal.”

It feels like a big deal to me. A very big deal. But I can see Gabriel is getting uncomfortable with the depth and sincerity of my gratitude. So I swallow it down. “Thank you. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

He relaxes and continues his route to the bathroom. While he’s in there, I lift the lid to the music box and let it play the tune while the angel turns around and around again.

It’s still going when Gabriel emerges from the bathroom fully dressed. I try to close the lid before he sees what I’ve been doing, but I suspect he caught me smiling down at it sappily.

“So your family is Christian?” I ask him, setting down the music box on the small ledge below the window.

He looks surprised as he sits down at his desk. They haven’t brought our breakfast in yet, so he’ll work until they do. “Not so you’d notice. Why?”

“You said they celebrate Christmas.”

“Oh. Yeah. It was mostly cultural. Almost everyone did it before im—before the Fall. And folks in my area kept it up afterward. Everyone still celebrates Christmas there.”

“I see.” I think about this. “I wonder why we stopped here.”

“The only explanation for it not being kept up here is that it was purposefully discontinued. A tradition as widespread and culturally significant as Christmas would never die off on its own in forty-five years even after a worldwide catastrophe. There’s no possible way that would happen.”

---