The Widow's Choice by Gilbert Morris

especially since Oscar pretty well raised Jason after their parents died.
    Later that night, as she settled in between the cold sheets, she thought about how large the bed seemed for one person.She deliberately refused to think about Truman and instead thought about the Christmas pageant and her job. The job worried her, because Mr. Atwood was becoming more and more familiar, and she was at a loss as to how to discourage him without losing her job. She pulled the covers up under her chin and asked God to give her wisdom and to help her with the difficult situation.
    ****
    Alona had come to watch the next to the last dress rehearsal for the Christmas pageant. The performance was almost over when Oscar came down the aisle and slipped into the pew beside her. “Hello, Oscar,” she whispered.
    “Hi, Alona. Is the practice going well?”
    “Yes. Everybody seems to know their lines.”
    “It must take a lot of patience to take children and train them to go through something as complicated as this. I admire the pastor’s wife.”
    “She’s such a talented woman, and so very patient.”
    “She is, and her husband’s a good preacher too. A fine couple. We’re lucky to have them here.”
    When the rehearsal was over the two applauded with the other spectators. The children went offstage to change, and Oscar turned suddenly and said, “I don’t want to offend you, Alona, but there’s something I’d like to ask you.”
    “Why . . . how could you possibly offend me?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t have the most tact of any man in the world.” He chuckled. “Most people would say I don’t have any. But there’s something I’d like to ask you to let me do.”
    Alona had been approached by many men since her husband had died—some had been crude and others more sophisticated. Until now, she had thought Oscar was just a friend, and she felt sad somehow, for Oscar Moran had never appeared to be the kind of man who would chase after women.
    “Just tell me what it is, Oscar.”
    “I’ve told you I have two grown stepdaughters, but theyboth live in Louisiana. We write two or three times a year, but Christmas is pretty lonely in my big house. I’ve always wanted children of my own, especially boys, but it just didn’t work out that way.”
    “You would have been a good father. It’s too bad you didn’t have children.”
    “Thank you. That’s kind of you. What I’d like to do—and please don’t be offended by this or take this the wrong way—I’d like to see to it that your boys have a very good Christmas.”
    “But we will have a good Christmas, Oscar. We have a tree, and I’ve been baking cookies and breads. On Christmas we’ll have a nice dinner and sing songs—we’ve kept up with all the traditions Truman and I started.”
    “Of course you have, and I think that’s wonderful. But, well, to put it bluntly, I know you don’t have much money, and toys and other gifts are expensive, especially as boys get older. So I would like to help with that part of your Christmas.”
    “Oh no, Oscar, I couldn’t possibly let you do that!”
    He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I know it’s hard to accept money from somebody who’s not a member of the family, and I know your pride may be a bit hurt. But, Alona, I’d like to ask you to put your pride aside so that I can help the boys get some nice gifts. No obligation at all, of course.”
    Now it was her turn to be silent, and she thought for a long time. Maybe he’s right, she thought. Maybe I do need to let him do this for the boys. Zac is dying for a twenty-two rifle, and I can’t afford it. Tim would love to have some art supplies, and Carl wants toys that I can’t possibly afford. She took a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right, Oscar. It does trouble my pride that I’m not able to buy things for the boys that other kids might have.”
    “I’d be surprised if you felt any other way. But it would make them so happy. You wouldn’t even have to