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“Tae?” Jimin asked his friend as he watched him bent over a plastic tub full of Christmas props from this year’s photo shoot.  “What are you doing?”

“Looking for one of the Christmas tins.  The ones we were going to hold in the shoot but ditched for the gift-wrapped boxes.”

“Why do you need a Christmas tin?”

“To put the cookies in.”

“Those amazing cookies that you made for the girl you met at the café?” Jimin quizzed him.

Tae nodded.  “Yeah.  I mean, I want to make the experience complete.  No normal box will do.  I need a Christmas tin.”

“I’ll help you find one,” Jimin promised as he knelt in front of the bin and began to dig through it too.

––

A stranger had been moved by her plight.  Discerned two of her favorites.  Tried to buy her that cup of hot chocolate and cinnamon roll.  And shown interest in her family’s Christmas tradition.  In butter cookies shaped to represent her favorite holiday.

His conversation stayed with her all day.  Wrapping around the corners of her mind like a warm blanket.  And it greeted her when she awoke the next morning to a knock on her door.  She scrambled from bed and rushed for that door.  Yet, she still didn’t manage to catch her secret admirer before he’d escaped.  She sighed in disappointment.  Until she glanced down.

And found a Christmas tin lying at her feet.  Its cheerful countenance stared up at her.  Merry Christmas was written across it in bold green and red letters.  In English.  The tin itself was white.  Green holly and its red berries dotted the open spaces.

She bent to retrieve it, and her curiosity got the better of her.  She instantly tore the lid off and gasped as she encountered two dozen cookies.  She stared down in wonder at the green trees and red mittens.  Christmas cookies??  Like her cousin’s? 

At least, they looked like them.  She reached into the tin and thumbed through them.  The bottom dozen weren’t frosted.  But they were thin, golden brown, and perfectly crisp.  Just like Mira’s.  But…how?

The gorgeous guy in the café.  He’d requested her recipe.  And now two dozen Christmas cookies had suddenly appeared in front of her door.  It could not be a coincidence.  Could it?

Had he followed her home yesterday?

But, no, this was the fourth gift she’d received.  Two golden crosses, a pristine sand dollar, a marvelous snow globe, and today a tin full of her favorite cookies.  Joy, peace, wonder, and now sweetness.

So, the beautiful man from the coffeehouse was her secret admirer? 

As she considered it, she realized that it made perfect sense.  He had first encountered her on Christmas; he had even alluded to that moment.  And he’d taken note of her love of hot chocolate.  He’d overheard her asking for a variety of Christmas treats.  And inferred that she was missing the Christmas cheer which she’d grown up enjoying.

Then, he had…what?  Followed her home from the coffeehouse? 

If so, why?

Just so he could leave her a gift each morning for the next few days?

And why didn’t that creep her out as much as she would have expected it to?  That some strange man had followed her.  And kept lavishing her with his attention.

Wow, she must be really desperate.  To enjoy his odd pursuit of her.

She was desperate.  Desperately in need of a real friend.  But, as she took note of the little card taped to the underside of the tin’s lid and pulled it off to peruse its contents, it occurred to her that perhaps she had finally found a true friend.

“Everyone should be surrounded by the joys of their childhood.  Especially at Christmas.  And into every life, a little sweetness must flow.  I’m hoping that this little taste of home will brighten your day and give you back your Christmas spirit.  I hope they’re as good as your cousin’s.  Though, I’d be surprised.  This was my first attempt at making her recipe.  Still, you deserve all the sweetness life can throw at you.  May it send you an avalanche of goodness.”

She felt a sheen of tears misting her eyes as she stared down at the bold, black strokes on the small notecard.  And then as her eyes took in the sweet bounty that was the reward of a stranger’s efforts in the kitchen.  It must have taken him all afternoon yesterday to make these cookies.  She knew what hard work they were.  He’d had to assemble all the ingredients – probably no easy task in Seoul.  Where on earth had he found cream of tartar? 

Then he’d had to make the dough.  And chill it for a couple hours.  The next step had been to roll it out and bake the cookies.  Finally, he’d made frosting before painstakingly spreading the icing on each cookie.  Except, of course, for the ones he’d left plain.  He’d clearly been paying attention.  He knew she loved the browned ones. 

As she stared down into that colorful tin, she lifted a pile of green trees to reveal the perfectly browned cookies beneath.  He’d let them bake a little too long for her.  Because he remembered that everyone else’s “too long” was her “just right.” 

She smiled as she picked up one of the golden-brown cookies and took a bite out of it.  Her eyes fluttered shut as the sharpness of the cream of tartar bit into her tongue before the sweetness of the sugar and the richness of the butter instantly soothed it.  Her beautiful stranger had done it.  This cookie was perfection.  She was instantly transported back in time.  To Christmases long ago.  When she’d still believed in dreams coming true.  And in romantic English manors.  In the beauty of an ocean and all its treasures.  In the power of a cross.  And in bright hope for tomorrow.

Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn’t give up on those dreams just yet…