Gilbert Morris by The Angel of Bastogne

to see terrible things, especially in your line. Little children who die needlessly.”
    â€œI feel all of that, but I have to believe in the Lord. He’s all I have to put the world right. Of course,” she added quickly, and a serious look framed her face, “we’re living in enemy-occupied territory. But one day it won’t be. One day Jesus will be on the throne, and all evil will be locked away. That’s when life will really begin. Wouldn’t you like that, Benjamin Raines?”
    â€œI’d like it a lot, Charlene. I just can’t get a handle on it.”
    * * *
    It had been a wonderful meal, and Ben hated to see it end. He had taken notes about Charlene, facts that he could work into the story. He had cautiously told her the focus of the story, and she had been excited about it. She was one of those buoyant, enthusiastic Christians who believe everything he didn’t, but there was nothing phony or hypocritical about her. He knew that about this woman.
    â€œI guess I’ll have to go,” he said. “Got a lot of traveling to do.”
    Something seemed to be working in Charlene’s mind, and she looked up and said, “I’m a very forward woman. I guess you’ve noticed.”
    â€œNot really. Why do you say that?”
    â€œI’m about to shove my way into your business. That’s my spiritual gift, meddling.”
    â€œMeddle away,” Ben said, wondering what in the world she was talking about.
    â€œI’m taking some time off for Christmas. Haven’t had a vacation now in a long time.”
    â€œThat was my plan, too. I was going to Spain,” Ben said ruefully. “Now I’m not. A friend of mine had a bypass.”
    â€œI’d like to help you with the story.”
    â€œAre you a writer along with being a doctor?”
    â€œOh, nothing like that. But I’m a pilot, and I have a plane. If you’d trust me, we could fly together to meet the families of the men that were with our dads in that foxhole at Bastogne. I’d like to meet them.”
    â€œSome of them might not be alive, you know.”
    â€œI know, but I’d like to meet their families. I’ve wanted that for a long time.”
    â€œWhy, of course, that would be wonderful as far as I’m concerned, if you’d let me pay the expenses.”
    â€œNope. It’s on me. My Christmas gift to the famous writer Benjamin Raines.”
    â€œHardly that,” he said. He suddenly grew excited. “That would just be perfect! They’re scattered all over the country. It would be exciting.”
    â€œYou’re not afraid to fly?”
    â€œWell, it’s not my favorite thing.”
    â€œAre you afraid to fly with a woman?”
    Ben suddenly laughed. “You must be a feminist.”
    â€œI’m feminine. Men usually would prefer that their pilots be male.”
    â€œI don’t feel that way at all. I can be just as petrified with a male pilot as I can with a female pilot. When I get on a plane, I try to forget about who’s flying it and the fact that I’m flying.” Ben hesitated, then said evenly, “ Charlene, maybe I ought to throw one thing at you.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œI think you already know. I don’t believe in very much.”
    Charlene was watching him silently. “I know that,” she said quietly.
    â€œI don’t believe in Santa or the tooth fairy—or in Jesus.” Ben waited for her to react, and he halfway expected her to withdraw her offer or at least to be upset.
    â€œYou’re not too old to believe; nobody is. But that’s not a requirement. I think it’d be a good way to spend Christmas. Think what a great Christmas gift you’d be giving these people!”
    â€œWhat gift?” Ben said, confused by her words.
    â€œYou’re going to write this story, and when they read it, they’ll read about the men that fought for