The sugar bowl was reduced to this: two dollars and thirty-six cents. A year of high rents, bills, and groceries ravaged this reservoir of money, until today, the twenty-third of December.

Miranda replaced the lid and sat at the kitchen chair, dejected. She covered her face with hands warmed by a cup of tea to find comfort but to no avail.

Worried thoughts swirled in her head, searching for ideas in this predicament.

Laura will be here this afternoon, and I can’t afford a nice present for her. Of course, it’s expected with the apartment’s rent and everything else. It will be unbearable to greet her empty-handed when Christmas is in two days. If I had Della hair from The Gift of the Magi, I could sell it, but my short bob wouldn’t be enough.

To Miranda, Laura was an angel, a constant companion she cherished even when they argued. The first friend she made in Santa Ana, the one who offered to become roommates and enjoyed listening to her lectures on marine biology, the one who stayed by her side at the hospital during her appendectomy, and the one who made bleak days better.

Miranda reciprocated their friendship with encouragement, a shoulder to cry on, and shared making cute ornaments. Together they laughed, cried, argued, but always loved each other at the end of the day. Laura deserved an excellent gift, much more than anything bought with two dollars and thirty-six cents.

As she stirred milk into the tea, Miranda looked at the sugar bowl’s money again, hoping the amount would magically change. That didn’t happen, but Miranda noticed something else in it; a small tin of needle and thread was hidden behind a one-dollar bill. An innocuous observation Miranda took full advantage of after breakfast.

Growing up, Miranda admired her grandmother and mother for their sewing skills. They taught her everything they knew, from repairing worn clothes and stuffed animals to making cute ornaments. They were so skilled, they had a local shop renowned for excellence. Handmade wedding dresses of all shapes and sizes paraded the store’s display front to the delight of many customers, even those with no desire to become brides. Miranda’s passions were directed towards marine biology, but her interest in the needle and thread never waned. Her mother and grandmother were aware of this and added sewing kits and projects to the care packages they sent.

She made a note to thank them both later, as Miranda sewed up the gold and white heirloom lace sheets.

.                                                                       .                                                                       .

At four o’clock, Laura arrived at the apartment, where Miranda greeted her with a warm hug.

“Sorry to make you wait, Miranda. The airport was slow, and the bus was caught in a traffic jam.”

“It’s no trouble, Laura. We now have the entire week to ourselves!”

“I’m glad.” Laura sighed as she dropped her work bag and slunk into the cushions of the sofa.

Miranda jumped with giddiness, which Laura noticed.

“What’s happening? Did you drink too much soda again?”

“Y-yes.” Miranda fibbed.

Laura narrowed her eyes in a playful manner. “Hmm, is that so? Then why do you have lace in your pocket?”

Looking down at her black sweatpants, Miranda saw her gift protruding like a sore, white thumb.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” She said nervously.

“Come on, Miranda, what are you hiding?” Laura grinned.

“I’m not hiding anything, honest!” She turned away, but the angel fell to the rug on the floor. The ornament wore a long-sleeved robe of white lace with threaded gold and a bow around its neck. Tiny butterfly wings lay on the back, and a snowcap covered the crown. Two black eyes, red cheeks, and a smile were painted on the face.

Before Miranda could react, Laura picked it up and read the tag.

“Oh, Miranda, this is my gift?”

Tears welled up in Miranda’s eyes. “Y-Yes, Merry Christmas.”

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been so suspicious.”

“No, don’t apologize. I couldn’t afford the big gift you deserve, so I crafted this. It’s not much, though.”

“What?”

“It only takes a needle, thread, cloth, and a wooden circle. So…”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“I understand, but I was out of money.”

“No, not that!” Laura grabbed Miranda’s hands and smiled.

“W-What do you mean?”

“Miranda, you took the time to craft something gorgeous for someone else. You, from countless others, made that effort. It IS much!”

Miranda grinned, then hugged Laura as she sobbed.

“Come on, Mira, I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“Okay, okay.” Miranda laughed.

“You know, I have a present for you too!”

Laura pulled out a small, misshaped clay vase and placed it beside the angel.

“Made it this fall with my sister.”

Miranda put her lips to Laura’s.

“This much.”

Both women smiled and embraced.

That Christmas season, two people, like ones we pass by every day, treated each other like angels on earth.

 Editor: Lucy Caferio