Janet is on the editorial staff of Wycliffe Canada’s Word Alive magazine. She invites you to visit the Wycliffe Canada web site to see what Wycliffe Bible Translators is doing around the world to bring God’s Word to those who don’t yet have it.

Janet's passion for writing developed when she took a writing course through the Christian Writers' Guild in 1983. Her writing has been published in Decision Magazine, Power for Living, Today's Christian Parent, FreeWay, The Church Record (Australia) and Challenge (England and Australia), ChristianWeek, FellowScript and The Galilean (India). Two of her short stories were published in an anthology called The Essence Treasury: Celebrating the Season and The Essence Treasury: Expressions of Gratitude and another found a home in Taj Mahal Review (India). A true story of hers has been published twice in the past two years in Japanese workbooks for students practicing English for their university entrance exam. Two other true stories have also been printed in two gift book anthologies, Opening the Gifts of Christmas and Grace Givers, edited by Dr. David Jeremiah. Janet's stories can be accessed through the links below. She is delighted that her inspirational writing has touched lives around the world.

Lights on the artificial Christmas tree twinkled. Outside a few flakes of snow drifted down as the gray sky darkened.
      Although this Sunday afternoon was two weeks before Christmas, I found it impossible to be in a festive mood. Our family had gone through one of the most difficult years of our lives with major health issues, a serious work-related problem for my husband, and difficulties with our teenage son. Some decisions we needed to make in the months ahead could alter the direction of our lives for years to come.
      As a Christian, I knew should be focusing on the meaning of the season rather than the problems we were experiencing, and yet my focus was on my problems. Often I felt numb. I dealt with emotional pain on a daily basis.
      “Mom, I wish we were spending Christmas in Minnesota with Grandpa and Grandma. I miss them, and all of my aunts and uncles and cousins,” said 15-year-old Rachel as she sat on the floor, wrapping a small package.
      “I know, dear. It would be nice to go home for Christmas, but Minnesota is 2,000 km from Calgary.” I looked up from the notes I was writing on my printed Christmas letters. “You remember how bad driving across the prairies was in that snowstorm two years ago.”
      Buying airline tickets for four people had been totally out of the question financially. We didn’t even consider it. No one was coming over for Christmas either; I just didn’t have the strength to invite anyone. We would be spending Christmas alone.
      My thoughts flitted back to the present as the doorbell rang. It was now quite dark.
      “Rachel, will you please get the door?”
      She ran to the door and opened it after the doorbell had stopped ringing.
      “Mom, there’s a box with presents on the doorstep . . . and nobody is out here.”
      I ran to the door to help her bring in the box. Who could have left it?
      It contained numerous packages wrapped in bright Christmas paper. Each had a typewritten tag: Open Dec. 15, Open Dec.16. There were a total of 12 -- the “12 Days of Christmas.” The first day, Dec. 14, was attached to a turkey wrapped only in the plastic in which it had come from the store —so we wouldn’t miss the fact that it needed to be put into the freezer immediately.
      Dec. 14 read: “Our LOVE is given anonymously,/ So enjoy fun with your family,/ But don’t tell anyone please.”
      Now we were really mystified.
      After that we would gather each day as a family, open one more tag, read the clever little note, and then try to guess what the package held. It became a game to us. Our son even joined us on occasion. As the days slipped by, we discovered potatoes, sweet potatoes, a package of marshmallows, cranberries, packages of gelatin, pickles, olives, cans of green beans, corn, mints and ginger ale, and nuts. Together the packages made a complete Christmas dinner for four people.
      As we opened each anonymous package, we realized someone was thinking of us, loving us, wishing us a wonderful Christmas. Someone who wished to remain anonymous.
      As it turned out, a family from work gave us an invitation for Christmas dinner, and we ended up celebrating New Years Day with the goodies that our benefactor had lovingly given us.
      In the following years, with God’s help, we were able to unravel the knot of difficulties one by one. The life-altering decision never had to be made; health issues were satisfactorily resolved, and even a solution was found for the serious work-related problem. Now, five years later, we hardly recognize the difficulties we had at that time. We’ve gone through a time of healing as a family.
      You’re probably wondering if we ever found out who gave us the anonymous Christmas gift. We never did. At first I wanted to know, but later it became unimportant. Now I realize knowing would spoil things. That gift was given out of love with no strings attached—like God’s Gift to us—with nothing we could do to deserve it or pay the person back. It came when we desperately needed a reminder that we were loved. I still have the little tags folded in a page of my journal.
      To me, that’s the true spirit of Christmas.