(Note: This is not my final revision, but I think it's pretty close to being the last. I realized that my last ending was really kind of : ......... So with a suggestion from my wonderful mother, this is what I wrote. And ok, technically it's not the ending, it's the climax, but I'm keeping the ending a lot the same, just changing a few sentences to go along with this, and Mason asking Reverend Haddox to make out the check in Madeline's name.)
I sat in front of Joseph, admiring what I had captured in his face, but frustrated that he didn’t have a family yet. I knew how I wanted the painting to look by now, but I didn’t know how to do it. I sat back and closed my eyes, letting my thoughts wander. They turned to the party last night, to Madeline, our new friends, and then to Reverend Haddox. I thought of our last meeting, and the advice he had given me. “Take a step back, say a few prayers, and listen to your heart.” I had blown it off, thinking, “What could an old preacher know about painting?” But now I was stuck and didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t doing so well by myself, maybe it was time to listen to someone else.
Moving some paintings, I created a clear space on the floor next to my bed. Feeling slightly silly, I knelt down and folded my arms. It had been a long time since I prayed and I wasn’t quite comfortable with it. I glanced quickly toward the door, making sure it was locked, then closed my eyes and bowed my head.
“Dear Father in Heaven,” I whispered, “ I need some help. I know I haven’t prayed for a while, and in fact I’ve kind of forgotten you, but I’m coming to you now. Please help me to know what to paint, and how to do it. I’ve shut you out for so long that I can’t seem to find you now that I’m trying. So please inspire me, help me to paint a masterpiece that will do you credit.” I paused, and a feeling of peace swept through me. I took a deep breath and continued, “I need to paint this, I have promised to do it, but I can’t do it without your help. Amen.”
I opened my eyes and stood taller than I had in a long time. The warmth still filled my soul and I felt confident and at peace with myself. I sat down in front of the canvas and picked up a paintbrush. Before I touched the canvas, I imagined myself in the stable, next to the manger. I closed my eyes and tried to feel and smell everything.
Then it was as if I had been carried away, back two thousand years to Bethlehem. It was like my eyes had been opened and I was seeing for the first time. The babe lay in the manger, and it was to him my eyes were drawn. In the serenity of the stable it struck me that this is what it’s all about. This tiny baby is the greatest gift the world has ever received. He is the hope of the world, the Savior of all mankind. I saw all my imperfections, everything he had suffered for because of me. Kneeling, I covered my face with my hands, too overwhelmed to stand any longer.
It was a long time before I realized that I was still sitting in my room. I unclasped my hands. I was still holding the paintbrush, and it had left marks on my palms. I rubbed my face and found it wet. Sitting up straight, I reached for my paints.
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