Orbiting Jupiter

by Gary D. Schmidt

“I’m glad you’re here,”

I guess that night at the pond, while my father and mother and I got colder and colder listening to Joseph, I guess that night unfroze him.

Joseph said, “How much of that story is true?” Reverend Ballou considered this. “I think it all has to be true, or none of it,” he said. “The angels?” said Joseph. “Really?” “Why not?” said Reverend Ballou. “Because bad things happen,” said Joseph. “If there were angels, then bad things wouldn’t happen.” “Maybe angels aren’t always meant to stop bad things.” “So what good are they?” “To be with us when bad things happen.” Joseph looked at him. “Then where the hell were they?” he said. I thought Reverend Ballou was going to start bawling.

Christmas is the season for miracles, you know. Sometimes they come big and loud, I guess—but I’ve never seen one of those. I think probably most miracles are a lot smaller, and sort of still, and so quiet, you could miss them.

that feeling you have in dreams, when something is on its way and there’s nothing you can do about it except to hope you wake up before it comes.

And I wondered if Joseph knew that what he wanted, he couldn’t have.

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”