On Christmas Eve in 1864, Minna Walden peered out the window. She sighed, seeing no sign of her father.

        “Will the War let Papa come home for Christmas?” She asked her older sister.

        “Likely not,” said Helga, “because he did not come last year either.” Sighing, Minna went back to her sewing, sniffing the spicy smell of traditional German Lebkuchen in the kitchen for comfort. Lena, the youngest Walden, was maniacally mixing the spicy dough, spilling ingredients all over the table in their cozy log cabin.

        “Lena, if you don’t keep some of that dough in the bowl, there won’t be any to eat!” Mama said. Lena immediately slowed her mixing, making sure not a grain of flour was spilled.

        That night, Minna and Helga lay in their bed, praying for their father’s safety in the war against the Confederacy, and trying to fall asleep.

        “God be with Papa, and please, please let him come home tomorrow,” Minna prayed.

        The next morning, Christmas Day, was filled with Merry Christmases, but without Papa. Lena looked out the window of the cabin, and suddenly yelped, “Belsnickel is there! I see him!” Belsnickel, or Santa Claus, was walking towards the cabin. Helga looked where Lena was pointing.

        “That’s not Belsnickel! That’s Papa!” She exclaimed, running out to meet him. Her younger sisters followed.

        “How did you get home?” The girls asked, showering him with questions.

        “There was an outbreak of sickness and a bunch of us had to leave. I am well now, and I was actually more than happy to come back.”

        “I love you Papa,” said Lena.

        “Merry Christmas!” Said Minna.

        “Welcome home, Papa,” said Helga, “and I thank God for your health and safety.”

        “Me too,” said Papa, “because of the Lord’s good will.”