Knocker

The Brown Paper Box. It always starts with the Brown Paper Box. It's shipped out to the unknowing, arriving on ones doorstep whether wanted or not. Received with either joy or sorrow, pain or peace. Delivered by none other than the most beloved and hated Knocker.

A home in London had just woken up. A woman turned on the kitchen light and continued to make breakfast for her husband and herself.

Her husband, who finally managed to roll himself out of bed by the time his wife had called that breakfast was ready. Came stumbling down the stairs and entered the kitchen. Kissing his wife affectionately, he sat down at the table and started to eat the breakfast his wife had laid out for him. Hot coffee, buttered toast, crispy bacon, and eggs, he thought himself the luckiest man in the world.

His wife sat across from him, reading a magazine and sipping her coffee.

Glancing out the window at the sun starting to rise over the distant hill, he sighed. Thinking about his upcoming day, the workload, day in, day out.

Looking back to his wife, he noticed her gazing intently at the same sunrise.

What's on your mind love?

He knew exactly what was on her mind. It was the same subject that has been on her mind for the past couple of years.

A baby. Her baby. Their child. The child they have both been praying for what seemed like forever.

Nothing darling. She replied, smiling at her husband.

There was a soft knock at the door.

A stillness filled the kitchen. Who could be knocking at this hour in the morning?

A foreboding yet hopeful thought crept over the husband's mind. Glancing over at his wife it seemed the same thought had passed through her mind as well.

She rose slowly from her chair and started towards the front door.

Her husband reached out and caught her arm.

Jennifer wait...

He whispered softly

Jennifer pulled her arm away from him and continued towards the door. Reaching out a shaking hand she turned the doorknob and opened the door.

There on the doorstep stood a tall slender figure, draped in a black cloak which was moving with the breeze... Only there was no breeze. Indeed the morning had been a still, quiet sunrise.

Deep heavy breathing could be heard from underneath the dark hood that covered the figure's face. And a long hand wrapped in the cloak stretched out towards the woman, who was pale, and trembling from head to toe.

The hand continued to stretch out until it was no longer wrapped in the cloak, revealing a long, slender white hand clutching a brown paper box.

The figure placed the box into the woman's outstretched, trembling hands.

It lingered a moment on her doorstep as if to communicate how this box was of the utmost importance.

The woman fell to her knees and started frantically to try and open the box.

A gentle hand touched her shoulder. She turned to see her husband kneeling beside her with a pair of kitchen scissors.

Smiling faintly to show appreciation, she took the scissors and cut open the box.

She reached forward as if to take off the top she had just cut, she paused.

Tears streaming down her face, she looked over at her husband.

He reached out and grasped her hand, together they lifted the top off the box.

A sigh of relief crept over their household. The husband, smiling ear to ear, looked over at his wife. His beloved wife with the tear-streaked face.

Who was laughing and smiling at the contents of the box.

The contents of the box was something they had been praying for

for years. Their lives had flooded with joy that morning, and they will never be the same again.

Looking up the wife glanced at the still open doorway, the figure had gone.

Somewhere very far away, in a place called Aspen Colorado, USA. A mother was getting her children to bed.

After a few "I'm not going to ask again's" and "I'm going to count to three!!" She finally managed to get them all teeth brushed, in their pajamas, and tucked tightly in their beds.

Closing the door to her eldest child's room, she sighed.

Rubbing her own tired eyes she opened the door to her youngest daughter's room.

Hello sweetheart.

She said quietly, walking toward her daughter and sitting at the end of her bed.

What book would you like me to read to you tonight?

Goodnight Bears!

Her daughter exclaimed happily.

Laughing at her daughter's silliness, and picking up the book she insisted her mother read every night before bed. She started to read the story.

"Sun has fallen, the moon shines bright

Mama bear kisses her cubs' goodnight..."

Mommy...

She looked up from the book. Her daughter was staring intently into her face.

Mommy, when is daddy coming home? Her daughter asked.

I'm not sure sweetheart, your daddy is at the hospital with your grandfather. He should be home later tonight when you are asleep.

Stroking her daughter's head and finishing the bedtime story, she kissed her goodnight.

Gently closing the bedroom door she walked downstairs and slumped into an armchair, curled up in a blanket, and started to cry softly into a pillow.

Her husband was indeed at the hospital with his father. After one stroke, and a mechanical embolectomy surgery, he was fading fast.

They were all enjoying dinner together when there was a knock at the door. Unknowing and uncaring, she remembered her husband going to open the door. After he didn't answer her call inquiring who was at the door, she walked into the hallway. There in the doorway stood her husband, frozen still with his hands clutching a brown paper box.

Her heart stopped. Sending the kids to play, they sat at the kitchen table and opened the box.

Now four hours later, husband at the hospital, kids asleep, she was alone. An hour passed, two hours passed. Still, she sat, waiting for her husband to call, any sign of good news.

There was a soft knock at the door...

Slowly she walked to the door, pulled it open, and looked at the cloaked figure standing on her doorstep.

Slowly a long, white, thin hand extended out from the cloak, only this hand was empty.

The hand reached out and grasped the woman by the shoulder. Immediate warmth spread through her, and for a moment it seemed that all was going to be okay.

The hand withdrew and reached back into the cloak, pulling out a small brown paper box.

The woman took the box and nodded towards the figure, who nodded back. She closed the door.

Taking the box, she sat back down on the armchair and slowly opened the box. Tears streamed down her face as she looked into the box.

The phone next to her on the side table rang.

Picking up the phone it was her husband on the other line, he was crying.

Silently they cried and talked on the phone for hours. Wishing she could be there with him.

Gazing out the window she breathed deeply. Far off in the distance, she could almost make out a soft shape of a hooded figure, gazing back at the house as if protecting.

Somehow she felt comforted knowing that Life was looking after them.

Knowing that no matter what happened that Life would bring something better around the corner...