The writer walked into his office, and the first thing he noticed was the snow falling gently outside the window. It was a peaceful sight, and it made him think of all the gifts writers need for the holidays. He needed pens and journals and books for inspiration. He needed an inviting place to work, where the ideas would flow out of him like a river.
He sat down at his desk and drank some coffee. Then he got to work. As the hours passed, he grew hungry. He ate a snack, and then he continued writing. The ideas flowed out of him like a river. He had bought himself an early Christmas present to help with his writing. It was a typewriter!
He was so absorbed in the story that he didn’t notice it getting dark outside, until he looked up and saw the sun setting behind the mountains. There was a Christmas tree in the corner, a spindly pine that he had cut down in the forest and decorated. For a moment, he stopped working long enough to admire the twinkling lights and writerly ornaments.
As the darkness deepened, he felt a chill, and he stood to turn on the electric fireplace. He sat by the fire with a blanket wrapped around him, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace. He wanted to keep writing, but he was so tired that he found himself nodding off. He went into his bedroom, climbed into bed, and fell asleep.
He woke up to the sound of knocking on his door. It was still dark outside. He looked at his clock and saw that it was 3:00 a.m. Who could be at his door at this hour? He dragged himself out of bed and went to answer it.
It was a courier. He held out a package to the writer, who signed for it and took it inside. It was from his publisher. He tore off the wrapping and opened the box. Inside was a poster to inspire him. What a thoughtful gift.
How amazing! This was just what he was looking for to help him with inspiration. He had only been writing again for a short time when another package was delivered. This time it was pens! He selected a beautiful wooden pen.
But what would he write on? He didn’t have to wait for long because yet another package arrived, this one containing several beautiful journals and planners for the new year ahead.
It was almost as if someone had read his mind.
And perhaps someone had.
There was a tap at the door to his study. There stood his lovely partner, holding two mugs of hot cocoa.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked with a smile. “I couldn’t pick out just one gift for you.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he said. “I’m at a loss for words.”
She laughed. “Well, that’s a first!” She gave him a mug of cocoa and then a kiss. “Merry Christmas, darling.”
“Merry Christmas, sweetie pie.” They sipped their cocoa and watched the snow fall outside the window. With a smile, he realized that if he’d written such a perfect story, then nobody would have believed him.
It was like something straight out of a holiday story.