When Dorothy reads her daughter’s innocent letter to Santa, she’s blindsided by a request for the same heart-shaped earrings her husband apparently gave their nanny. Suspicion spirals into doubt, leading Dorothy to uncover a heartbreaking truth tied to a long-kept secret…
My name’s Dorothy, and Christmas will always be the best time of the year for me. My husband, Jerry, and I have an eight-year-old daughter named Ruth, and our holiday traditions are what make it all magical.
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
Every December, Ruth writes a letter to Santa, folds it carefully, and places it in the freezer, which is bizarre but, to her, makes perfect sense.
“It’s how mail gets to the North Pole, Mom! I saw it on TV,” she said, her eyes wide.
This year was no different. Ruth had spent the better part of the evening at the dining table, her face scrunched in concentration as she sketched something on her letter while popping little chocolate-covered almonds into her mouth.
A bowl of chocolate covered almonds | Source: Midjourney
“It’s done, Mommy!” she chirped, skipping to the freezer and tucking it in with all the ceremony of a royal decree.
I smiled at her. I figured Ruth was asking for the usual things — you know, a new set of paints, a dollhouse, or maybe even the glittery unicorn toy she’d been eyeing.
Whatever it was, I couldn’t wait to make her little Christmas wishes come true. Ruth wasn’t a difficult child, and Christmas was the only time she asked for things. Even on her birthday, she wouldn’t ask for anything other than a huge chocolate cake.
A little girl with a chocolate cake | Source: Midjourney
That night, after Ruth had gone to bed, with Jerry reading to her, I crept into the kitchen to read her letter.
It had become my own little tradition. I loved peeking into my daughter’s world, seeing what magic she believed Santa could bring her, and all the reasons she gave him for being on the “Nice” list.
But as I unfolded the paper, my breath caught in my throat, almost choking me.
A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney
The page was filled with Ruth’s colorful handwriting and a drawing of a pair of heart-shaped earrings. Beneath the picture were the words:
“Dear Santa, please bring me the same heart-shaped earrings Dad gave to my nanny! Thank you!”
I froze.
A letter to Santa | Source: Midjourney
The room suddenly felt too quiet, the air too thick.
What on earth was she talking about? Jerry had given Gloria, our nanny, heart-shaped earrings?
My hands shook as I reread the note, my heart racing. Why would Ruth ask for earrings like Gloria’s? Why would Jerry give our nanny jewelry at all?
My mind replayed moments I hadn’t given much thought to before, like the way Jerry’s face lit up when he joked with Gloria, the casual way he asked her to stay late when I had work functions, the thoughtful gifts he’d given her over the years… small things, sure, but enough to make my stomach churn now.
A pair of heart-shaped earrings | Source: Midjourney
Was I blind to the obvious? Had Jerry been hiding an affair right under my nose?
The next morning, I went about my day as if nothing had happened, but inside, I was unraveling. I kissed Jerry on the cheek as he left for work, pretending everything was fine. Meanwhile, my brain was on overdrive.
“What’s on the agenda today?” I asked Gloria as she poured milk into Ruth’s cereal.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
School was closed for the day, and I needed to know that Gloria was going to actually be productive with my child.
“We’re going to work on Ruth’s school projects,” Gloria said, smiling. “And then we’re going to read!”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “I have work to do, so I’m going to be in the study for most of the day. But we can grab smoothies later, Ruthie. You can leave early, Gloria.”
A woman holding a bottle of milk | Source: Midjourney
Gloria nodded and picked up Ruth’s breakfast. They had gotten into the habit of eating outside, trying to identify birds as they went along.
After Ruth and Gloria left the kitchen, I grabbed my laptop and ordered a nanny cam. It felt surreal, like something out of a bad soap opera that I had suddenly found myself in. I hated that I couldn’t just confront Jerry outright, but if he denied everything, I’d be no closer to the truth.
A woman using a laptop | Source: Midjourney
Thanks to speedy but ridiculously expensive delivery, the camera arrived a few hours later. I set it up in the living room, hiding it among the Christmas decorations.
As much as I didn’t want to, I had to know.
The next day, Jerry left for work as usual, and I dropped Ruth off at school. Gloria was home tidying up, humming along to Christmas carols on the radio.
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
I plastered on a fake smile and told her I’d be home late from work and to lock up when she left.
But by mid-morning, things changed.
My phone buzzed, indicating that the nanny cam app had detected motion. I opened it and saw Jerry standing in the living room. My heart dropped. He wasn’t supposed to be home.
I stared at the screen, watching as Jerry handed Gloria a small, gift-wrapped box. She looked surprised, then smiled as she opened it.
A box on a table | Source: Midjourney
My head spun. I couldn’t sit at my desk for another second. I grabbed my bag, mumbled something about a family emergency to my boss, and drove home.
When I walked through the door, I felt like I’d stepped into a nightmare. Jerry was still there, standing near the couch, and Gloria was sitting with the gift in her lap. This time, it was a heart-shaped pendant.
Something to match those earrings, huh?
An upset woman driving | Source: Midjourney
They both froze when they saw me.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, my voice trembling.
Neither of them answered right away. My eyes darted to Gloria’s ears, which were on display with her braided hair. And there they were.
The earrings. Heart-shaped, just like Ruth had drawn.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Nice earrings, Gloria!” I spat, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “It must be nice to get all these things from my husband. Imagine. Jewelry from another woman’s husband.”
Gloria’s face went pale. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jerry stepped forward.
“Dot, stop,” he said, using my nickname to calm me down. “I can explain it all.”
A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, I’m sure you can,” I shot back. “And it better be good, because from where I’m standing it looks like you’ve been sneaking around behind my back! With our nanny!”
Jerry sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping.
“You weren’t supposed to find out this way.”
“That’s your explanation, Jerry?” I shouted. “That you weren’t supposed to get caught?”
An angry woman | Source: Midjourney
“No, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, running a hand through his hair. “Just listen to me… okay? Those earrings. They’re not from me. Not really.”
“What does that even mean, Jerry?”
My husband hesitated, then took a deep breath.
A man with his hand on his head | Source: Midjourney
“They were from Brian. My… well, we were best friends.”
The anger drained from my body, replaced by thick confusion.
“Brian? Who’s Brian?” I asked.
Gloria spoke up for the first time, her voice soft.
“Brian was Jerry’s best friend, Dorothy. My brother.”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
My mind spun. Jerry sat me down, his voice heavy with guilt as he explained everything.
Fourteen years ago, his best friend Brian had passed away from cancer. Before he died, he asked Jerry to look after Gloria. At least it explained why Jerry had pushed for us to hire her.
She was only 19 at the time and had recently lost her parents too.
“He left me a box of gifts for her,” Jerry said, his voice on edge. “He wanted her to have pieces of him for milestones in her life—like birthdays, special occasions, moments where she needed to feel he was still with her. He planned all of it while he was undergoing chemo.”
An IV drip in a hospital | Source: Midjourney
I glanced at Gloria, whose eyes shimmered with tears.
Jerry continued to explain.
“I’ve been fulfilling that promise ever since. The earrings were in the box. They were meant for her and they were given by Brian. Not from me.”
I stared at him, the weight of his confession sinking in.
A pensive woman | Source: Midjourney
“So you’re telling me all this sneaking around… you were keeping a promise.”
“Yes,” he said softly. “I should have told you sooner, Dot. I just didn’t know how. It’s not exactly the kind of thing that comes up in conversation. And… talking about Brian is a lot for me.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I asked Gloria. “You knew about Brian and Jerry the entire time and just… didn’t? Ruth asked for these earrings, dammit. She asked Santa for them, and that’s why I thought something was going on.”
A woman with folded arms | Source: Midjourney
Gloria shook her head sadly.
“I didn’t know Ruth would notice the earrings, let alone ask for them. If I had, I would’ve explained everything right away. I never wanted to cause trouble for anyone here…”
That Christmas was a mix of heartbreak and healing. Jerry and I had a long talk, and while I wasn’t thrilled about the secrets, I couldn’t deny the beauty of his promise to Brian. And honestly, Gloria was a part of our family. Ruth adored her.
A smiling woman and child | Source: Midjourney
We decided to sit down with Ruth and a platter of waffles, trying to explain the story behind the earrings in a way she could understand. She was fascinated, of course, and still insisted Santa had to bring her a pair.
And Santa delivered.
On Christmas morning, Ruth opened a tiny box to find her very own heart-shaped earrings. Her face lit up brighter than the tree, and for the first time in weeks, I felt my heart swell with joy instead of doubt.
A pair of heart-shaped earrings | Source: Midjourney
Those earrings became more than just jewelry. They became a sort of reminder — of love and strength. Of Brian’s love for his sister. Of Jerry’s loyalty to his friend. And the love that kept our family together, even through misunderstandings. We also taught Ruth the power of promises and unconditional love.
Sometimes, the truth hurts. But sometimes, it heals.
And this Christmas, it did both.
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
Hosting Christmas for my in-laws was supposed to be a joyous affair, but the evening took a shocking turn when my mother-in-law gifted me something that left the entire room speechless. What started as festive cheer quickly spiraled into an unforgettable family showdown.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Matt Heath: My parting message: Enjoy things while they are around
A lot of big, tragic and important things have happened to this wonderful country of ours since April 2014. None of which I have covered. I was too busy writing about hungover parenting, ancient philosophy and my dog Colin.
Out of the 536 columns I have written, 27 were about that guy. Far too few. He is such a good boy, he deserves an article a week.
Today is the end of an era for me, and whenever these final events pop up in our lives, we can’t help but think about the ultimate end.
Everything we do, we will one day do for the last time. That’s why you have to enjoy things while they are around. It’s not just big events like leaving a job, house or loved one either. Whatever moment you happen to be in now, you will never get it back, and you don’t know how many more you have.
Everything we do in life, from eating pizza to spending time with the people we love, to driving, writing, drinking or breathing, we will one day experience for the final time. It might happen tomorrow. This can be either a depressing or an inspiring thought, depending on how you look at it.
A few years back in this column, I interviewed professor of philosophy William B Irvine, of Wright State University, Ohio, on this very topic. He put it this way on a Zoom call: “Recognition of the impermanence of everything in life can invest the things we do with a significance and intensity that would otherwise be absent. The only way we can be truly alive is if we make it our business periodically to entertain thoughts of the end.”
Today’s column is very meaningful to me because it is my last. Like the last night with a lover before she goes overseas. And just like a lover, there have been some half-arsed efforts put in from me over the years. Last week, for example, I spent 750 words moaning about how bad my cricket team is. But the truth is that any of my columns could have been the final. If I had reminded myself every week for the past 10 years that the end is inevitable, I may have been more grateful for having a column and appreciated writing them all as much as I am this one.
While everything we do could have more meaning with a focus on finitude, some things are inherently more worthwhile than others. There is no doubt my column “The pros and cons of wearing Speedos” from November 2022 was less meaningful than most things in this world. That was a waste of everyone’s time. So, if we only have so much time, how do we pick the best things to do?
Well, Oliver Burkeman, the author of Four Thousand Weeks – Time Management For Mortals, suggested this to me in a 2022 column: “Ask yourself, does this choice enlarge me? You usually know on some unspoken level if it does. That’s a good way to distinguish between options.”
With that in mind, I don’t feel great about my 2018 article on “New Zealand’s best hole”. That didn’t enlarge anyone.
There will be people reading this column right now who have loved my writing in the Herald and are sad to see it end. Others will have hated it and are glad to see me go. Many won’t have any opinion at all. But for those in the first camp, I have good news. I have a book coming out on May 28 called A Life Less Punishing – 13 Ways To Love The Life You Got (Allen and Unwin Book Publishers). It’s a deep dive into the history, philosophy and science of not wasting our time lost in anger, loneliness, humiliation, stress, fear, boredom and all the other ways we find to not enjoy perfectly good lives. It’s available for pre-order right now (google it if you’re interested).
A Life Less Punishing took me two years to write and is equivalent in words to 100 of these columns. Which would be a complete nightmare for those in the hate camp, but as I say, great news for those who want more.
Anyway, thanks to the Herald for having me, thanks to the lovely people who make an effort to say nice things to me about my column nearly every day and thanks to the universe for every single second we get.
Bless!
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