Christmas Stranger

by Richard Paul Evans

Genres: Family Life; Holiday books

Synopsis

A new holiday-inspired novel from the “master” (Booklist) of Christmas fiction, New York Times bestselling author Richard Paul Evans.

Release date: November 4, 2025

Publisher: Gallery Books

Print pages: 224

Sample

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1
Until you have lost what you love most, you will never fully understand that most of what you think you love you can do without.

—Paul Wanless’s diary

DECEMBER 24, 2014

KDE Evening News: Our lead story tonight, a local family’s Christmas Eve turned tragic when an intoxicated driver collided with a car carrying a mother and her seven-year-old son. The two occupants of the car were both killed. The driver received only light injuries and has been charged with DUI vehicular manslaughter. Names of the victims are being withheld pending notification of family.

The South Mountain Calvary church Christmas pageant was one of the seasonal events Paul never missed. It was a family tradition, and this year was even more significant than before since their seven-year-old son, Jaxon, was in the play. He’d been picked to play Balthazar, one of the three wise men.

It was also the first time Paul had ever been late for the pageant. One of his computer store’s motion sensor alarms had gone off and he had to run out and check on it.

Paul pulled up along the front curb of the crowded church and ran inside. As he entered the church’s darkened fellowship hall, the disembodied voice of the pastor rang out over the church’s sound system.

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night…”

He texted Rachel to ask where she was. She immediately texted back.

Middle, front row, right side

Rachel had secured coveted prime seating at the middle of the front row, her coat holding Paul’s seat. Paul found her and sat down. He leaned over and kissed her.

“Hi, girl.”

“You’re late,” she whispered.

“Sorry. I’ll explain later. Did I miss him?”

“No. The wise men come last—after the shepherds.”

Paul took off his coat and settled in. “Did I miss much?”

“A lot. Caesar raised taxes and Ariel Anderson rode Deacon Clark across the stage to Bethlehem where she gave birth to a Cabbage Patch doll.”

Paul covered his mouth to laugh.

“And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.”

Suddenly a spotlight swept the stage. It became obvious to the audience that this part of the show hadn’t been rehearsed since it looked more like a prison guard tower sweeping the yard for escaped convicts. The light eventually settled on a group of child shepherds, who really did look sore afraid, all of them shielding their eyes from the light. In doing so, one of the kids hit another kid with his crook, who ran off the stage crying.

“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

“And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

At that moment the first notes of a piano rang out, and the children began singing “Joy to the World.” The song droned on like a dirge, as the pianist, an elderly woman named Lois, played the piano as slowly as she walked.

“That pianist is really slow,” Paul said.

“She’s just old.”

“Maybe it’s premature rigor mortis.”

Rachel grinned.

“How old do you think she is?”

“I think she’s in her nineties.”

“Is that all?”

“How old did you think she was?”

“I thought she might have been there when Jesus was born. Or at least when that song was written.”

Rachel laughed. “Be quiet.”

After the shepherds finished singing, three bath-robed children walked onto the stage.

“Why are they wearing diapers on their heads?” Paul asked.

Rachel gave him a sideways glance. “They’re not diapers. They’re scarves. They’re supposed to be turbans.”

“Which one is Jaxon?”

“He’s Balthazar.”

Paul turned to her. “Like I know which one is Balthazar.”

“You have about fifty crèches with Balthazar and you don’t know what he looks like?”

“No one knows what he looks like.” His brow furrowed. “The diaper heads look nothing like my crèches.”

“If you can’t tell which one is your son, you’re working too much.”

“I am working too much,” Paul said. “I’m guessing he’s the wise man in the middle, since I don’t recognize the other two and his face is covered by a scarf.”

“His turban’s coming apart. I knew I should have safety-pinned it.”

“Why is he carrying a pitcher?”

“It’s a censer of myrrh.”

Paul nodded. “He’s taking his role very seriously.”

“Very. He told me this morning that the Magi were sorcerers and that Magi is where the word magic came from.”

“That boy’s too smart for his own good.”

“Then he told me they’re part of a priestly caste from the religion called Zoroastrianism.”

“He actually said Zoroastrianism.”

Rachel nodded. “I had to look it up.”

Paul just shook his head.

“He tried to use magic to turn Barkley into a donkey.”

“Did it work?”

“I wish. He’d probably shed less.”

“Why a donkey?”

“Apparently, someone knew someone with some donkeys and suggested using a real donkey for the pageant. The pastor’s wife nixed that. So Deacon Clark was the donkey instead.”

“That’s appropriate.”

She smiled wryly. “You’re mean tonight.”

“By ‘mean’ do you mean witty and sardonic?”

“Not answering that.”

When the wise men had given their gifts and the entire ensemble had assembled, a woman stood up and turned to the audience.

“We’d like to invite the congregation to sing with us, ‘Silent Night.’?” She turned to Lois and nodded. Again, Lois commenced playing in slow motion, the crowd hanging on each note. But even Paul started singing. Rachel just leaned into him.

Afterward, the pastor thanked everyone in the pageant, reminding the congregation that this was Lois’s fifty-third consecutive pageant. (The claim was technically not true. Lois had missed a pageant two years earlier due to shingles.) And there was repast—a word the pastor loved, though it’s usually reserved for the reception after a funeral—in the back of the hall, consisting of brownies, cookies, and wassail. Also, there was a gift poinsettia plant for every family. The pastor closed the evening with a prayer and dismissal. The room lights came on and the hall’s ambient noise rose with the lights as parents and grandparents sought to reunite with their children.

It was only a few minutes before Jaxon ran up to them. His turban had completely unraveled back into a scarf.

“Dad! Did you see me?”

“Of course I did. You were great. Maybe a little too great. Most of the people were having trouble watching Mary and Jesus because you were just so outstanding. They should have called it ‘Balthazar and the Others.’?”

“That’s blasphemous,” Rachel said.

“What’s blast-famous?” Jaxon asked.

“He’s one of the shepherds,” Paul said. “They usually just call him Blast, but he’s famous. So, it’s, Blast-famous.”

“Oh,” Jaxon said. He looked up at his mother. “I want to be Blast-famous next year.”

Rachel shook her head.

“Mom, can I have some cookies?”

“Yes,” Rachel said. “But only one. Then we need to get home. You need to be in bed so Santa can come.”

“Thank you.” He turned to go.

“Wait. I’ll take the scarf, young man.” She took it off his shoulders and Jaxon ran off to the table near the back of the hall. She turned to Paul. “Blasphemous is one of the shepherds?”

“Was that really a conversation you wanted to have with a seven-year-old tonight?”

She put the scarf around Paul’s neck. “No. Do you want to leave your car here and drive home together?”

“I’ve got some expensive equipment in the back.”

“Okay. We’ll be home soon.”

“Be careful. The roads are slick.”

“When am I not?”

“You weren’t when you married me.”

She smiled. “That’s true. Will you pick up our gift poinsettia?”

“Got it.”

“I’ll see you in a few.”

Paul leaned in and kissed her. “I love you.”

Rachel looked at him with a peculiarly serious gaze. “I will always love you.”

Paul had been home for nearly an hour before two officers from the Draper police arrived at his door to inform him of the accident.