Despite outward appearances, life was not a fairytale for gospel singer Donna Dubois. Struggling with depression, loneliness, and uncertainty in her marriage, she reluctantly agrees to go on a holiday missionary trip to the Appalachian Mountains of Kentucky. During her stay, she is assigned to live with the widow Sara Cagle. Taking notice of Sara’s perseverance, Donna soon begins to relax and actually enjoy herself. When misfortune strikes Sara, Donna is forced to reexamine her life, her marriage, and most importantly, her faith. Taking over for Sara, Donna soon discovers the one thing she had been missing all her life—The Christmas Answer.
The Christmas Answer
Donna slowly made her way toward a rustic log cabin. Chickens pecked and darted across the yard. There was little grass, mostly dirt, with an old washing machine placed just outside the porch. Not certain what to expect, Donna made her way up the steps, startled when the door swung open.
“Welcome, welcome. Come in. You must be from the missionary group.”
“Yes, I’m Donna Dubois.”
“Hi, Donna Dubois. I’m Sara Cagle.”
Donna extended her hand only for Sara to reach out and hug her instead. The cabin was small and dark. A wood stove burned, presumably providing the only source of heat for the small home. Sara, a tall, slender, fifty-something woman with long gray hair, moved around some clothing sprawled across the couch.
“Make yourself at home. Please sit down.”
Donna dusted off the couch before she sat, only to wish she had not made that gesture in front of Mrs. Cagle.
Mrs. Cagle offered a smile. “Tell me a little about yourself. Are you married or do you have any children?”
“I am married, but we have not been blessed with children.”
“You’re still young. It will happen when it is supposed to happen.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Choosing not to discuss the circumstances surrounding her life with a person she just met, Donna feigned a smile. Sara stood and lifted two of Donna’s suitcases.
“Let me show you where you will be sleeping.”Grabbing the third bag, Donna followed Sara to a back room that was divided in two by a quilt hanging across a rope.
“I’m sorry, but you will have to share a room with the little ones. I’ve moved the older boys out to the back porch.”
Shock pulsed through her as she took in her accommodations. Sara placed her luggage close to the bed, and Donna followed suit with the bag she carried.
“Let me show you the rest of the house and where you can freshen up.”
I hope they have running water at least, Donna thought—uncharitably, she knew. Sara led Donna back to the living room, and then into the kitchen where a small table butted against the wall. Walking past it, they exited onto the back porch that was enclosed with plywood. Two makeshift beds were placed on the floor. Donna then followed Sara into a tiny room that contained an old claw tub, a commode, and an aged, cracked sink that contained rust and a dripping faucet. Leaving Donna there to freshen up, Sara walked off.
Donna looked around the small bathroom. Trying not to be judgmental about her living arrangements, Donna resolved to put on a happy face. But, as she looked down at the rusted, old sink, her smile quickly deteriorated.
With much vigor, Donna cranked a faucet on, but nothing came.
“Great, no hot water.”
Facing the inevitable, she turned on the cold faucet to a small steady stream. Cautiously, she positioned her hands under the freezing cold water and placed her hand on her face to refresh her appearance. The cold water cut through her whole body, giving her chills.
What did she get herself into?