December 9th 1998
Lois lifted the ninth bag from the basket while Clark finished putting Martha into her soft pajamas covered in tiny stars. Their daughter kicked her legs, hands waving toward the lights on the mantel.
“Ready?” Clark asked, Martha on his hip.
Lois held the bag as he tugged the knot free.
Inside was a tiny carved sheep and the folded note.
Clark held the sheep in his palm. Lois unfolded the paper and read:
The boy often helped in secret. He rescued an animal that no one missed. He repaired things without leaving a trace. He learned: Value doesn’t come from recognition, but from impact. And good deeds matter, even if no one sees them.
Clark’s expression shifted. “I found a stray lamb once, tangled in a fence behind Wayne’s farm. Took me an hour to calm it down.”
“And no one ever knew?”
“Except my parents when I came home covered in mud.” He smiled. “Mom still has pictures.”
Lois set the sheep beside the shepherd and the others. Her hand lingered. Clark noticed.
“What’s wrong?”
She exhaled. “Today was a lot. Martha cried through half the afternoon, and I couldn’t figure out why. I tried feeding her, rocking her, walking circles around the entire brownstone. Nothing worked.” Her voice tightened. “And I kept thinking, maybe I’m missing something. Maybe I’m not good at this.”
Clark shifted Martha to one arm and moved closer. “Lois. You spent hours taking care of her. You didn’t stop once. That’s what being a good parent looks like.”
“It didn’t feel good. It felt like failing.”
He touched her arm. “She’s four months old. Sometimes babies cry for reasons no one can figure out. You were there anyway.”
Lois looked at Martha, now happily chewing on her hand. “She’s fine now. Of course she is.”
Clark tipped her chin so she met his eyes. “All the invisible things you do? They’re shaping her. She doesn’t understand it yet, but she feels it.”
Lois’s eyes softened. “You really believe that?”
“I know it.” He kissed her forehead. “She will too, someday.”
Lois slipped her arms around them, resting her hand on Martha’s head. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Thanks for believing in me.”
Clark smiled. “Always.”
They stood there a while longer. Martha yawned against Clark’s shoulder.
Last edited by Kathryn84; 12/09/25 06:17 PM. Reason: It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air.
