“Why do you do it?” said Ed, his voice raspy and deep, filled with scorn and old things not forgiven or forgotten.
“What do you mean?” said the man with a large bag in his hands, continuing his methodical gift placement. Two small square boxes with blue and silver wrappings next to the menorah. Two small square boxes in bright red wrapping next to the miniature Christmas tree. One large rectangular shirt-sized box next to the menorah, one next to the tree, and so on. His large hands carefully, tenderly placing each gift just so.
“Why do you leave gifts for us? You don’t owe us anything,” said Ed gruffly, shifting himself a bit higher in the plaid chair as he steadied his cane that was resting on the arm.
“I just do,” he said simply with an enigmatic grin stretching across his face.Read More