Christmas Eve and a Present to remember
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A Christmas To Remember
By Anon Allsop
I looked at her from the corner of my eye, she was definitely flustered
but I could care less, she was their mother and the behavior of her
children were her own concern...my problem was that they were most likely
going to distract me with their constant banter and shenanigans
throughout the entire church service.
She sighed as her young son began crawling under the front pew; she
quickly bent down and caught the three year old by the leg, and dragged
him back to the seat. "Stop it! You're embarrassing Mommy," she whispered
under her breath as she adjusted the crying infant she held in her arms.
I knew what my own father would have done if I were to behave in church
like that little one was, I'd have had my hide-tanned right there on the
spot! The tot took that moment as a perfect opportunity to begin
scribbling on the inside cover of the Hymnal.
"Uh...your son ma'am," I said with a frown, and then indicated down at
the floor with a nod of my head.
"Arrugh!" she groaned. "Michael Charles! That is not how we treat books!"
I turned back toward the alter and attempted to focus on our Priest,
Father Huber. As the woman removed the book from her child's hand, she
returned it to the holder in the back of the seat. While occupied, she
didn't see him begin to draw on the seat.
I scowled at the boy and wagged my finger in the air; he looked up at me
and frowned, slightly hiding behind his mother and peering at me through
the gap between her arm and body.
She gave me an apologetic glance, "Sorry," she mouthed.
I glanced at my watch. What would possess this young, single mother of
two little ones to even attempt attending church, on of all days
Christmas Eve! I glanced at my watch. The hands were resting on Midnight.
We had been listening to the choir in the loft singing up until now, the
priest had entered through a door near the alter and was now facing us,
only moments ago. There seemed to be an army of young boys, carrying a
great cross toward the priest, behind it was another boy carrying a life-
size ceramic figure, which represented the baby Jesus. Several others
were in procession behind all of this and were now approaching the front
of the church.
I glanced at her as she held her own infant child in her arms, trying to
fish out a bottle from the diaper bag. She was pretty...tired, but still
very pretty. If I had to guess, I'd say she was probably within five
years of my own age...there was no ring upon her finger.
We all began singing "Oh Holy Night" as the little ceramic figure was
placed into the manger set off to one side. As we sang, I felt a pressure
on the top of my left foot. Glancing down, I saw it was her son, Michael
using my foot as a step to get as high as the kneeler.
'These two should be in bed,' I thought to myself. 'Children should be
dreaming of Santa at this time, thinking of the great things that will be
under their tree when the morning comes.'
As the tot turned, his foot slipped from the kneeler and he fell hard to
the floor. In an attempt to prevent the fall, I made a quick stab at
grasping his arm. His own mother did likewise. We followed him to the
floor in unison and crashed our heads together...hard.
I staggered back and sat down, blinking away tears that were rapidly
welling in my eyes from the pain. "You okay?" A man asked.
"I...I think so," I stammered, trying to blink away the blurriness of my
tears.
I glanced down and saw her child in my arms, her hand still clinging onto
the bottle. The more I looked; I realized that the feminine hand holding
the bottle was my own. "How?" I gasped. I wanted to scream, somehow
though, I held it in.
The man...I used to be, turned forward again facing the alter, his
attention was upon the Catholic Mass. "How could one minute I be him,
then the next be this woman?" I felt as though my knees were about to
buckle. 'How is this possible?' my mind screamed.
'Get control of yourself!' advised my thoughts. 'There has to be some
sort of reasonable explanation for all of this!'
I looked down at Michael; he was climbing up onto the church pew so he
could see what was going on in the front of church. My eyes slowly were
diverted to Amber. "Amber?" I quizzed myself. "How would I know this
little one's name was Amber?"
"Mommy!" I felt tapping on my shoulder, but I still couldn't pull my
thoughts away from this strange fix I was in. "Mommy!" repeated the child
a little bit louder, the man...me glanced toward us.
"I had always thought of myself as a handsome, single man...and
strangely, trapped in this feminine body, I did...but, did I always look
that grumpy to others?" I wondered as let me gaze drift down to the boy,
"Shhhhhh!" I whispered to him.
"But I want to see Jesus' Christmas tree!" he pleaded desperately. I
glanced upward quickly, and saw what he wanted to see. The church always
surrounds the huge nativity scene with several live trees, all decorated
in clear blue twinkling lights. High overhead was a tall "star" suspended
on a long rod.
I placed Amber in her carrier and picked up Michael. "See all the pretty
lights, Michael?" I whispered. As I held him, I realized...or rather some
of this woman's memories seeped into my mind. I knew now why I...she
wanted to bring the children.
"That's just how mommy remembers it from when I was a little girl," I
found myself say. "No matter what happens, at least one thing about
Christmas remains constant."
I felt puzzled, why would I say this? They're just trees with colored
lights on them, the manger is nothing but a wooden structure with some
ceramic figurines inside. Where would that "homey" thought have come
from?
As I was placing him down onto the pew, everyone else sat down in unison.
We sounded like a great army, moving as one. The priest stepped up to the
lectern, and began to talk to us.
Michael began bouncing slightly; I glanced toward him at the same time as
I stood up the bottle once again for Amber to drink from. "Stop that!" I
whispered softly.
In a voice that carried throughout our section of the pews, Michael
decided to inform the world of his predicament. "I gotta pee Mommy!"
I quickly hung my head, dropping it forward so the entire church wouldn't
see my embarrassment. "Can it wait?" I asked softly.
"I'm going to pee my own self!" he said, speaking louder than necessary.
Several around me began to snicker.
"You can't go to the restroom by yourself, you're not old enough!" I
quietly reminded him, my thoughts and words settling in quickly, I found
in my answer, stuck somehow in this strange "Mother mode".
His dancing became more frantic; inwardly I knew that he was wearing
nothing more than little terry cloth training pants, opting for his "big
boy" underwear just before leaving the homeless shelter. "But how would I
know that?" I wondered, the thought didn't last long as the "mother" in
me quickly gathered Amber up, took Michael by his hand and began heading
out of the pew. As we approached the man...he stood and allowed us to
pass. He didn't look as glum, perhaps thinking we were leaving...either
that or just wishing to enjoy the brief moment of being without my
children for a few minutes. "My children?" I thought as I headed toward
the back of church with Michael in tow.
I neared the speaker mounted on the wall in the back of church, with
Amber and Michael in tow, just as Father Huber said, "Without the infant
laying in the manger long ago...and the sacrifices our benevolent God
made as Jesus grew...without all this, we are but dust! A dust that...."
His voice grew softer as we passed the vicinity of the speaker.
Michael paused for a brief second, causing me to have to give him a tug.
"What's with the dawdling?" I asked.
He turned and began walking again, "The man said we were butt
dust...what's butt dust?" The ushers who had gathered at the back of
church began laughing uncontrollably among themselves. I ignored their
laughter and continued toward the restroom, my cheeks warming from his
question and my own embarrassment.
"Is it the powder like you put on Amber?" he asked as I pushed the
women's restroom door open."
"Shhhhh!" I whispered to quiet him. As the door thankfully glided closed,
I could still hear the laughing of the ushers.
I pointed toward the toilets and Michael raced into a stall, dropping his
pants and underwear in flight. As he climbed on the seat, he began
calling out, making sounds, listening to the echoing of the room.
"Shhh! Michael, must you always be so noisy?" I asked softly, realizing
that I had Amber on a changing table with her diaper already off. I
continued changing her in stunned silence, meanwhile my son started
singing Jingle Bells...or at least his version of it within the stall.
"How did this happen to me?" I asked myself softly, fastening the tape to
the diaper. "Did something happen when we bumped heads?" I refastened the
little buttons upon her outfit and dropped the soiled diaper into the
trash. "How is it that I know what to do?" I frowned, as I held my
daughter, washing and drying one of my hands at a time.
"Mommy?" the little voice echoed.
"Yes Michael, what is it?" I replied as I picked up my daughter, kissed
and caressed our cheeks against each other. It was the strangest and
probably, most beautiful thing I had ever done within recent memory. Yet,
it was a gesture like I had seen so many other loving mothers do, a
sharing of that maternal bond between themselves and their children.
"If we're not at the shelter...will Santa still come?" He hopped down and
with a soft grunt, pulled his pants up.
I felt a strange sad tug in my chest, I knew that there would be no
Christmas beyond the few meager gifts that I had been able to buy and
place within the diaper bag. "We'll see, punkin."
Sadly I waited for him to come to the sink, I turned the water on and
squirted soap into his tiny hands. "Have we been bad?" He asked as he
worked the soap into lather.
"No honey, not bad..." I replied. It was hard to even say anything as I
realized that this would be not much of a Christmas for him. I didn't
really care about myself, and knew Amber would be too young to remember.
I dabbed away a tear with the back of my hand and pulled down a hand
towel far enough so Michael could remove it from the holder himself.
I watched him dry his tiny hands, taking care as I had shown him to dry
between each and every finger. As I watched, everything became clear to
me. I was alone, abandoned in the city by a boyfriend who was nothing
more than empty promises. These two beautiful children were his, the only
really good things that came from our relationship. He had never allowed
me to work and now that he was gone, I couldn't afford childcare so I
could get a job, had no income to put a roof over our head and no money
for food or presents this Christmas.
"Parents?" I wondered briefly, but knew that they passed away long ago
when I was eighteen. I had no one...and these two had me and were
depending on "Mommy" to provide them with...Christmas.
I trembled with a great overwhelming sadness; I feared what they would
find in the morning. I was certain that Michael would be disappointed, he
probably wouldn't remember it for long, but I would. I took a deep breath
and let it out, knowing that we had to finish what we had set out to do.
Attend church on Christmas Eve as I had promised, then find a warm place
to sleep.
I quickly checked my face prior to going out, and then wondered why I
cared. I swung the door aside and ushered Michael before me. As we were
going back to our pew, the ushers who had been in the back were now
taking offerings near the front. I quickly sidled past my former self and
took my seat. I picked up the purse that was behind the kneeler and
fished out my wallet. I opened up the bill area and found it completely
empty; sadly I turned to the change compartment.
Two quarters lay within the area...two stinking quarters was the only
thing between me and being completely broke. I handed them to Michael and
pointed to the end of the pew where the man, the old me was seated. "Take
these coins...they're for Jesus."
Michael looked up to see the usher walking back toward us, pausing at
each row to extend the basket and collect loose money and church
envelopes. Michael took the coins and moved near the man who I had once
been; I felt a bitter pang of sadness as the last of our money was about
to be deposited into the collection plate.
Michael studied the coins in his little hand, and then as the usher bent
the basket on the long pole down for my son to place in the quarters...he
avoided the basket and squeezed out past the man and into the aisle.
"Michael...NO!" I whispered loudly, only to watch in abject horror as he
raced across the back of church and up the outside aisle. His tiny head
was all I could see as he bounded up the aisle, and the packed church
blocked that from time to time.
My heart sank, the closer he got to the front of the church! People
around us began snickering, laughing at the innocent humor of my son. My
face grew warm as I held Amber tighter to my chest...trying to hide
behind her.
Michael climbed the few steps that were just ahead of the alter and
paused at the nativity, drinking in the beautiful scene...it seemed
almost reverently. Then he turned and walked up to the priest who was
preparing communion at the alter. Father Huber hands were spread out in
an all-encompassing prayer when Michael arrived. "I could just die!" I
sighed under my breath as he approached Father as if he had not a care in
the world.
Father Huber looked down; Michael was standing at his feet. "Here you
go!" he said as he reached up to place the coin in the elder priest's
hand. There was a smattering of laughter as the old priest became
slightly startled by the sudden presence of the boy. I tried to get lower
in my seat while the entire congregation began laughing as my son hopped
down the steps, almost falling on the last, then raced down the center
aisle to the back of church.
"Mommy! I gave money for Jesus!" The laughter grew louder in my ears as I
wished I could just disappear from view. The boy squeezed past the man
and as he was nearing me he said loudly, "Aren't you proud of me, Mommy?"
I could feel my face growing warm. "Uh...yes...yes Michael," I sighed in
shock as Michael proudly hugged me.
My head began to swim and I sat back into the seat and closed my eyes, as
I opened them I found myself once again back in my old body. I quickly
glanced at my hands then toward the woman who was holding one child and
hugging the precocious boy.
Father Huber laughed and walked toward the alter steps, "You know, in
almost 35 years of service to the church...that has to be the most unique
offertory gift I've ever taken part of. Ah, the beautiful, sweet
innocence of youth."
Everyone around us was still giggling; the young woman's face was beet
red. All the faces were upon both her and the boy. I smiled and gave her
a reassuring nod.
Church ended much in the same way as it started, only on a reverse order.
A great chorus of voices sang, all praising the newly arrived Christ
child.
I looked over at this little family, realizing that I had been given some
sort of miraculous insight into her plight, spending a brief moment of my
life as this young mother struggling with her children. Its story was
written on my soul, I felt that it was destined for me to do something to
help this family...but what?
As people were filing out I stood in the aisle, waiting for the woman to
exit our pew. I found myself smiling, now fully understanding her
frustration. She glanced up and gave me a quick grin. "Kids."
I felt my heart grow at that very moment, a smile breaking across my face
slowly. "There beautiful!" I replied, realizing that they weren't bad...
just ornery.
"I have to apologize for the way they behaved and I'm really sorry
about..." she said as she struggled past me carrying the diaper bag, the
child carrier and trying to herd the boy ahead of her.
"Here, let me help." I gently took the diaper bag from her hand and
hoisted the boy up so quickly that he giggled. "My name is Roger," I said
to her.
"Melanie," she said with a smile. "I'd like to thank you for not getting
too mad at them."
I smiled and gave her a nod, "I guess kids take some getting use to, but
believe me, I understand."
"I'll say," she said as she sat the carrier down and began to button up
her jacket, taking her cue, I crouched down, placed the boy on the floor
and tugged the boy's jacket zipper up and then fastened my own. In an
instant he was hoisted back up into my arms.
"You take the bus here, Melanie?" I asked even though I already knew how
they got there. We headed out the doors of the church and into the
blustery evening, snow swirling in the outside lights. I didn't want to
scare her; I knew much more about her than I probably should, after all,
I was she for a short time. I stuck to general questions that anyone
might ask, and kept our conversation pleasant.
"We walked..." she said with a slight amount of embarrassment.
I knew why though, she had no money for fare. "I've got my car here...can
I give you a lift home?"
She looked down at her feet and began to cry. We were standing near the
sidewalk entirely alone. "You're having a rough go of it...aren't you?"
She struggled to wipe a tear without sitting the baby down in the snow; I
reached into my pocket and removed my clean kerchief, handing it to her.
She nodded her response, her face distorted in mid cry.
"Do you have any family around here?" I asked, knowing the answer
already. Again she could only cry in despair of her young family's
plight.
I stood up straighter, my heart warming as it had not been before.
"You'll come with me...you can't spend Christmas alone in a shelter."
"My kids..." She wiped her tears as I took the carrier from her, the
diaper bag slung over a shoulder and the boy firmly in my arms.
I motioned toward my car and began to walk us all in that direction,
"It'll be okay, you'll see," I said smiling, trying to reassure her in
her desperate need.
"I can't pay..." she began.
"And I didn't ask...did I?" I interrupted.
I sat the bag on the hood and fished out my keys, unlocking the door I
waited for her to place the baby inside and buckle the carrier in place.
Michael had already bounded to the opposite side and was digging for the
seatbelt.
"Is this your car, Mister?" he said as he pulled the strap across his
shoulder and clicked it into place.
"Mine and the bank's" I said with a laugh.
"I like it," he said with finality.
I waited for Melanie to step back, closing the rear door. I opened the
passenger door; she sat down in the seat. Leaned against the headrest,
and sighed.
I crunched through the snow and climbed inside the car, and closed the
door. Putting on my seatbelt, I inserted the key into the ignition and
started he car.
"Home isn't too far, I could have walked too, but...I had this feeling
that I should drive today."
She gave me a curious look. "I know what you mean...I had the strangest
feeling to come to church. I grabbed everything we had and just...left."
"I guess the Good Lord is trying to tell us something..." I said as I
idled the car and began to adjust the heater.
The drive to my home was uneventful. I parked in the garage and walked
them into the kitchen, there Melanie stood and gazed around the room.
"Your home is lovely."
"And warm..." Shouted the boy as he raced into the living room. "Hey,
where's your Christmas tree?"
I gave her a sheepish look, and answered the boy. "It's just me, I've
never really had the need for one."
She smiled and carried the sleeping girl to the couch and sat down, her
eyes fixated on my fireplace's dancing flames. "The fire feels
wonderful."
"It's one of the things that prodded me to buy this place last month.
Nothing beats a great fireplace." I walked a few steps past her and down
a short hall, "Bedrooms and bathroom are back here."
She followed me and peeked around the corner where my guest room was,
"It's lovely, thank you."
I smiled, "The boy will have to sleep with you..."
"That's fine, he's used to it." She turned toward the living room and
called softly to her son, "Michael, come on. Time for bed."
He frowned and trudged down the hallway. "But I'm not sleepy!"
She gave him a motherly scowl. "Go on to bed, dear."
I stood at the door and grinned, "Well, I'll leave you two get settled
in. Bathroom is right across the hall if you need it. There's towels and
extra blankets in the bathroom closet, if you need a shower or get cold
during the night."
"Thanks for everything." She smiled, and then gave me a hug and a quick
peck on my cheek as she walked back to pick up Amber.
******
The house grew quiet as I lay reading in the bedroom until three in the
morning. I stood and walked into the hall, all the rooms were dark. From
the soft glow of the fireplace I could see both she and Michael sleeping
soundly in the spare bed. From my brief time of being her, I knew that it
was probably the first decent bed they've been in for some time.
I moved on into the living room, and stood in the fireplace glow. The
house did seem empty without a tree, especially at Christmas. I resolved
to do something about it as I dug into my pocket for my keys; I quietly
slipped out into my car.
It was time to call in an old favor from my college days. I had a friend
who was a manager of a discount store, and was going to see if he could
get me the things I needed.
******
I bolted up in bed; it was the sound that I had heard that brought my
senses awake. I snapped my head toward the sounds outside the door and
glanced at my alarm clock. "7:37...don't people sleep in anymore?"
I swung my feet out and pulled on my pajama bottoms, slipped my feet into
my slippers and threw my robe on. I tied it as I headed for the door;
still groggy from my late night...I had only been in bed for an hour and
a half.
I walked to the end of the hall where the noise was the loudest; Melanie
was leaning against the wall with Amber in her arms. Before her, Michael
raced excitedly from one side of the tree to the other.
"Mommy! Santa came...he knew we'd be here!" Michael shouted.
She glanced over at me as I stopped beside her, "You did this for us?"
She whispered with emotion.
I smiled and looked at the boy who was standing in front of the Christmas
tree, "Yeah, Santa and I did it for you and the kids." I replied softly.
She placed Amber on the floor, the little girl's eyes focusing entirely
on the tree's twinkling lights. Melanie stood and returned to face me,
tears rolling down her cheeks. She hugged me and cried into my shoulder,
I could feel my own tears welling in my eyes as I returned her hug.
"You're a good man...thank you!" she whispered through her tears.
"Mommy, can I get my stocking down?" Michael said, bouncing gleefully in
front of the fireplace.
"Stockings?" She whispered, stepping into the room so she could see the
mantle.
There in a row was a stocking for each of us, filled with small items and
candy. She stared at them with tears still reflecting in her beautiful
eyes, "They have each of our names on them..."
I grinned nervously, "All family's have Christmas stockings...Santa says
so."
"Is that what we are?" she spoke as she wiped away another tear with her
finger, "Are we a family?"
I gave her a smile and walked past her into the kitchen, pulling down a
coffee cup and sat it on the counter. "Are you a coffee drinker?"
She followed me in and stood at the counter, "It's a luxury that I've
never been able to afford." She studied my face for the answer that I
avoided.
"I'll take that as a yes," I said as I pulled down another cup. I began
to pour the steaming liquid from the carafe and returned it to the maker
once both cups had been filled. "Coffee on a timer...nothing beats modern
technology."
She took the cup I offered, "You never did answer my question, Roger.
Are...are we a family?"
I looked into the reflection of my cup; the steam skated lazily across
its surface. "When I bought this house this past November, I did it on a
whim. It was like I was being told to prepare...sort of strange when I
wasn't dating. I...can't explain it...but deep down, I was told you'd be
coming, I just didn't know when."
She was trembling; she sat her cup down on the countertop. "Are...are you
asking us to stay?"
I sat the cup in my hand down, preparing for what was to come next. I
whispered to her, "My home is your home for as long as you want."
Melanie embraced me, crying once again upon my shoulder. In the room
Michael was still waiting on us to pull down his stocking. "That's quite
a lot for us to ask..." she spoke as she dried the tears.
"That's okay, from the looks of it, Santa had already decided." I nodded
toward the stockings as she leaned forward and kissed me.
"Remind me later to tell you of my dream," she said as we parted, picked
up our coffee and walked into the living room.
That day was one of the most wonderful that I think I've every enjoyed,
it felt like the Christmas' of old that I remembered as a child. There
were presents galore for the children and Melanie, most of it I had to
guess on the sizes. I was thankful that my buddy, his wife and two
teenage daughters were still up when I arrived early this morning. They
had been watching a television holiday movie marathon.
All I had to do was ask and they responded way above and beyond call, I
was truly grateful for all of their help. We power shopped in an empty
store, and thankfully both of the daughters wrapped everything that was
under this tree, all with a smile on their tired faces.
His wife even thought far enough ahead to purchase some much needed
groceries, which was helpful in giving us our Christmas dinner and a few
meals besides. I was happy and it seemed that Melanie and the kids were
content as well.
Finally, by evening I carried Michael to bed and Melanie put Amber into a
crib that my friend had given us to use. I returned to the living room
and I sat on the end of the couch, Melanie stood staring into the
fireplace.
"You never did tell me about your dream," I reminded her.
She sat beside the couch on the floor, drawing her knees up into her
chest. "I dreamt that I lived in a beautiful home. It was during the
winter."
"Well, see there, dreams come true!" I said as I stretched out on the
couch.
"The home in my dream was exactly like this one!" She glanced at me from
the corner of her eye.
"That's spooky," I said with a laugh. "Was that all?"
"No. I...I was married to a loving husband." She looked back at me,
waiting to see my expression. "You."
I sat quietly; her dream was not unlike the one I had this very morning.
I knew what was coming next, but waited for her to tell me anyway.
"There's more isn't there."
"I...I was pregnant." She turned slightly toward me, trying to gauge the
strange dream's news upon me.
"I know," I responded, taking her hair and brushing it away from her
beautiful face. "It's unsettling isn't it...almost as though our lives
were destined to intersect this Christmas.??
"Then you had the same dream?" She asked. Shocked that I just said what
she had been thinking. "You know what comes next?"
I nodded and reached up, turning off the light next to the couch. The
room became bathed by the glow from both the tree and the fireplace. "In
my dream, we made love by the light of the Christmas tree."
She nodded, the shock gone from her expression. "I became pregnant as a
result of that...day."
I slid onto the floor beside her; we both stared at the glowing
fireplace. "I guess Christmas is a day for miracles to happen."
"Making love with someone you care about, and getting pregnant by the
very result isn't really that much of a Miracle," she said, leaning
against me.
I laughed. "It is if you've been told that you can never have children."
She glanced at me. "You can't have kids?"
I shook my head. "My...count is so low that I was told it would be
impossible."
She hugged my arm and placed her head on my shoulder, "It's Christmas,
and nothing is impossible on Christmas!" She looked up at me, I found
myself being pulled toward her like a speck of dust to the sun.
Whether it was destiny or just a dream, I was about to find out within
the soft glow of our first Christmas together?a Christmas to remember.
Happy Holidays!
Anon Allsop
[email protected]
Bree
- 22.12.2022
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