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Two Tales Of Christmas
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Two Tales Of Christmas |
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DreamEvil Member Elite
since 1999-06-22
Posts 2396 |
Claire busies herself with cleaning up the aftereffects of their Christmas party. The sheer number of mugs, both empty and partially filled, surprise her. They are scattered across the coffee table and floor in random patterns of disarray. She works methodically, picking up a mug, putting it on the tray at her side, and wiping off the moisture left by those who refused to use coasters. Almost absently she picks up the oddities that litter the floor. Finished with her picking up, she takes the tray laden with precariously balanced mugs and carefully walks across the living room floor. She breathes a sigh of relief when she makes it to the relative safety of the dining room's hardwood floors. Turning, she looks at the plush shag carpeting in the living room to see if any stray drop of hot chocolate had spilled as she walked. Satisfied, Claire heads to the kitchen, noting with a smile the gentle swearing that comes from Peter's den. The frustration was his fault. He had insisted upon being the one to put together the mountain bikes they had purchased for each of the children this year. God forbid they buy them pre-assembled. Her smile widens with that thought and she continues on to the kitchen. She works rapidly. First she empties and rinses each mug then places it in the dishwasher. Next are the hors d'ouevre trays and the collection of utensils she had used to prepare for tonight's party. A little dish detergent in the dispenser and she is done. At about this time the swearing has stopped coming from Peter's den. She dries her hands on a hanging dishtowel. Claire then walks out the swinging door to the kitchen and down the hall to the den. She opens the door and is greeted by the sight of three cardboard boxes jammed between desk and wall, a scattered assortment of various size plastic bags laying about, instructions folded and tossed to the side, and an assortment of tools. Claire also sees three shiny, new bikes assembled to perfection behind which is her beloved Peter sitting red faced asking, "How do they look? After the first one, they were easy!" Hard pressed to keep a straight face as she remembers the swearing, Claire answers, "Lovely dear, now if you move these next to the tree, I will get the presents from "you know whom" out of your closet and put them under the tree. Then we can relax for a while." Looking at his watch, Peter notices the time and says, "Very little while, its 2am. You know the munchkins will be up early." They both stop at the end of the hallway to look at the Christmas splendor in their living room. The fireplace burned low with only a whisper of hot coal left to it. On the mantel the children's three stockings were hung with great care. Each already stretching from the weight of goodies in them. The hallway has red and green garland lining both sides. So does the living room. The tree rises magnificently towards the ceiling trimmed all around with garland and bulbs hung with care by tiny hands. The bulbs are a little uneven, as are the icicles. They had all strung popcorn to wrap around the tree, the kids ate most of it. Little Cassandra put the bright sparkling star upon the top of the tree. With the lights off in the living room, the twinkling, multi-colored lights around the tree and walls fill the darkened room with dazzling displays of color. "We had better try for some sleep before the tiny terrors get up. Lucas is not so tiny anymore so he graduates to a total terror." Peter says this with a smile quirking his lips as he remembers their first Christmas and Lucas hiding under the wrapping paper on the floor. With those words to motivate them both, their tasks are soon accomplished and they are swiftly ensconced in their bedroom. They sit sipping the last of the now lukewarm apple cider, warmed with a two count of brandy to each mug. Setting his mug down Peter says, "Wait a minute, almost forgot something." He then gets up and out of bed and slips out the open bedroom door. Claire's look of puzzlement vanishes as Peter comes in bearing a glass of milk and 6 chocolate chip cookies. "Can't leave any evidence lying around." He says with a smile while moving to sit down. "You are not eating cookies in my bed mister." Claire says this in a playful but serious tone. With a sigh Peter straddles a chair and proceeds to outdo the Cookie Monster in sheer speed, if a bit less messy. The kids always get a giggle out of his pretending to be the Cookie Monster. Claire is no exception, so she giggles a bit. Seeing the look Claire gives him as he is about to set the empty plate and glass on the desk, Peter sighs. He stands up with glass and plate then walks out the bedroom door once again. A few scant minutes pass before Peter returns. Hopping into bed he kisses Claire and says to her, "I even rinsed them and put them in the sink." "Thank you dear." Claire says with a bit of amusement in her voice. "We really should get to bed." Soon Peter lays next to Claire, her body curled into him with his arms encircling her; holding her close and tight. They whisper "I love you," in unison and drift off to sleep. Kathy sits back on the old, worn couch exhausted from the night's party. Though there were only a few people that had shown up, the place was a mess. "At least Joe and Tamara helped pick up most of it." She whispers. Thinking of those two makes her glance at the porch where they had decided to crash for the night. Looking to the right, she sees Jason sprawled under the table where he had crawled to sleep off his drunk. Head propped on his legs, Amanda sleeps soundly, her breathing punctuated by the occasional snore. So many of their friends live on the street or have no family to spend Christmas with; no family that cared anyway. Kathy winces as she remembers when both she and David lived out of Missions and homeless shelters or, more often the alleyways. Getting pregnant she had seen as a blessing since it qualified them for AFDC, though she would never see her children as mealtickets. Between the assistance for the two children and David working at temp agencies they had managed to rent this apartment through subsidized housing. Now that they had a house they had both decided it would be a safe place for friends still on the street to crash or at least get a shower and something to eat. There was no way they could forget where they were at just a few years ago. They would never forget those who had actually cared enough to help. The back door rattles, breaking her reverie. An equally exhausted David walks through the door. He had walked a few of their guests to catch their bus home. The holiday bus schedule is so annoying. "The kids still sleeping?" He asks, glancing both ways. "Like angels." Her tone is relieved. "Good." David says with a conspiratorial smirk. Carefully bringing them in so he doesn't wake anyone with noise, David brings in two small bikes. He had spent weeks scrounging in alleys for enough thrown out parts to build a bicycle for each of the kids. One frame had enough rust on it that he had taken it to work and sandblasted the entire thing. He had repainted both frames and greased all the gears. He has even wrapped them in lopsided ribbon for the girls. Kathy has spent her spare time picking up odds and ends of material from the Free Store. She had ripped the seams then hand sewn the girls patchwork dresses for Christmas. "God knows they could always use play clothes." That had been her thought at the time anyway. David and Kathy both sit on the couch. David leans over and picks up a bottle of Jack Daniels from beside the couch. Putting his feet on the coffee table he says, "Nothing like kicking back with Jack on Christmas Eve." With that he takes a long pull off the bottle. He watches the bubbles gurgle up the neck of the bottle as the dark, amber alcohol rolls down his throat. Poking Kathy in the ribs he says, "Come on lazy bones lets finish so we can go to bed." Kathy flashes her bedroom eyes and asks, "Are you tired?" "Nope," he says with a smile. Giggling, she takes his offered hand, stands up and moves the couch away from the closet door. She opens the door and rummages through a seemingly random pile of blankets. Under this pile she has hidden the toys they had picked up from Toys For Tots last week. The two had spent a few hours gift wrapping all the toys. "Thank God for Toys For Tots." Both of them have that thought often. When Kathy went to pick them up there were almost one hundred people packed in the mall waiting their turn to go through the rows of tables. Each person that had signed up had been sent a reminder notice that had to be brought with. To one side had been several teenagers that were to guide each person through the tables. They also made sure each person got the right number of toys for the right number of children. All together it had taken two and a half-hours to go through from waiting to end but she had three bags of toys when she left. Then had come having to go to the Dollar Store to get stocking stuffers. After putting the presents next to and under the tree, the two head to their bedroom door at the head of the hall. They stop to look back at the Christmas splendor of their home. The several sets of lights lit up the house with a surreal pastel glow. The small artificial tree towered over Becky and Susan, but the girls loved it. Strings of popcorn wound around the tree, missing pieces here and there from small pilfering fingers. They had solemnly watched as David hung their stockings (a pair of David's socks) over the radiator in the living room. Since they had watched the movie The Santa Clause, they had become fascinated with the radiator. Homemade garland made from loops of red and green construction paper hung from corner to corner framing the walls. With that sight fresh in their eyes, the two walk into the bedroom and shut the door. David absently grabs the glass of milk and cookies the girls had set out for Santa. The house is quiet save for the faint echoes of breathing and the radio softly playing Christmas music. Slowly the porch door opens. At the far end of the hall a door opens. Carefully peeking down the hall, a tiny set of cornflower eyes is followed out the opening door by a little blonde girl no bigger than a minute. She turns and loudly whispers, "Come on. Hurry!" Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, an older girl appears in the doorway. With hair much longer and much less blonde than her little sister, Anna steps out into the hall. "Is Lucas up?" She asks. As if in answer to her, the door to her brother's room opens. Out pops a bright-eyed boy with tousled blonde hair. "He is now." Cassandra says. Being the oldest, Lucas takes the lead. They make their quiet way down the hall towards the flashing, multicolored glow at the left end of the hall. Lucas stops at their parents' door, causing a collision between Anna and Cassandra. "Shhh!" He says. Keeping an eye and an ear apiece peeled for parents, the three kids make their way down the hall. Each step fills them with deeper anticipation and fidgeting energy. Giddy excitement has Cassandra bouncing up and down with each step. Lucas and Anna, being old pros at Christmas, moved in a slightly more dignified pace but with no less excitement. Turning left put them five steps from the right turn into the living room. Bored with the last few steps of the walk, Cassandra darts in front of the two older kids. Three children gaze in rapt amazement at the mountain of presents hiding half of their tree. A world of kaleidoscopic wonder flashes back at them in the reflection of Christmas lights on ribbon. "He came! He really, really came!" Squeaks Cassandra. Knowing where the early score is, Anna and Lucas turn their attention to the mantel and the stockings that are filled nearly to bursting. Lucas' eyes snap back to, wonder of wonders, bikes!! Anna looks at Cassandra, Cassandra looks at Lucas, Lucas looks at Anna and a mad dash is on! The three thread the two corners like racecars in Monte Carlo. Peter and Claire are awakened and enveloped by a whirlwind of riotous racket and clamor coming from three angelic dervishes jumping on the bed, one screaming, "Santa came! Santa came!" Anna shakes her parents. "Wake up momma, wake up daddy!" Lucas pulls the blanket from the bed then proceeds to tickle one foot of each parent. Claire is out of bed with a minimum of effort on the kids' part. This has become an established tradition and they all follow the routine. Peter pretends to be still fast asleep, though his leg twitches each time his foot gets tickled. Cassandra sits on her father and begins bouncing up and down on him while Lucas grabs a leg and Anna grabs an arm. Cassandra jumps off her father and pushes him when the other two pull on him. Together they drag their suddenly wide-awake father from the bed and onto the floor. Peter grabs Lucas and begins tickling his feet in retaliation just as Anna starts to tickle him. With Lucas yelling, "Stop, please stop" and laughing, Cassandra grabs his foot and begins to pull on it to free her brother. She loses her grip and ends up soundly sitting on her brother's stomach. With Lucas' "Oof!" Peter is up and out the door, three children hot on his heels. Meanwhile Claire is in the kitchen pouring herself and Peter a cup of coffee from the automatic-drip Mr. Coffee. Peter had insisted on it having a timer so there would be coffee waiting when they woke up. She had to admit it was a pretty good idea. She opens the dishwasher and takes out two mugs. Two teaspoons of sugar and a shot of half-n-half later have the coffee ready for Peter's eager hands. She likes hers black. Picking up the mugs, Claire joins the rambunctious revelry in the living room. She stops to watch Peter with the kids. He is on his hands and knees pretending to be a grumpy bear chasing the children who woke him. Cassandra has other ideas however and daddy soon becomes a horse. Peter looks to Claire holding two steaming mugs and thoughts of play evaporate before the awesome pull of "Coffee!" Swiftly but gently Peter detaches himself from the clutches of three clinging children and firmly plants himself on the couch. Knowing that to be the signal, Lucas swipes the stockings from the mantel and hands his sisters' theirs. He plops on the floor and begins to take things out of his stocking. While the children are involved in the trivial wonders of the stockings, Peter and Claire attempt to waken themselves with large amounts of caffeine. They meet with partial success. "This year Cassandra gets to hand out the presents. Anna, Lucas, you both sit down." Falling to the floor where he stands, Lucas moans with exaggeration. Anna sits on the couch with rolling eyes and a loud sigh. Cassandra sticks her tongue out at her older siblings and picks up a small present. She looks at the name on it, conveniently printed in large letters by Santa. Knowing this will take a while, Peter takes this opportunity to refill the mugs with coffee. Although smart for her age, Cassandra is still only five and will take some time to decipher the mountain of presents spread before her. Done with the coffee, Peter heads back into the living room to find Cassandra gleefully plowing through presents, passing them out in some predetermined order all her own. He hands a mug to Claire who slides over to give him room on the couch. Anna moves to the recliner. By the time the second cup of coffee is gone Cassandra has handed out all the presents, except for the bikes and those too big for her to carry. She sits down next to her pile of presents. Like well-orchestrated dancers the children begin tearing into their presents surrounding themselves with a Taz-like dervish of wrapping paper and ribbon. The only pause in this display is when a treasure is unearthed. Then cries of, "Thank you!" and "Thank you Santa!" begin along with, "See what I got?!" Peter and Claire respond with the appropriate, oohs, ahhs, and Cool! to each "revelation." By unspoken agreement they wait until the children have opened all their gifts before turning to their own. From Cassandra, they receive a plaster cast of her hand, painted blue and red. Anna gives them the CD soundtrack to The Matrix. The ever thoughtful Lucas gives his mom a "Get Out Of Dishes For A Week" card and to his father he gives a subscription to National Geographic magazine (his mother helped him somewhat). Peter gives Claire a mink stole. In return she gives him two tickets to the Superbowl. With the opening of the presents being done and over with, Peter and the children begin cleaning up the wrapping paper, ribbon, and boxes. Claire heads to the kitchen to make breakfast; Belgian waffles, strawberries, bacon, and toast. Opening their door, the twins look down the hall for any sign of parents. Becky and Susan quietly walk down the hall. They hold each other's hand trying to contain their excitement. Just before the end of the hall, they close their eyes and cross their fingers. The twins take a step into the living room and open their eyes. Awestruck, the two girls reverently approach the wrapped presents that surround their tree. Disbelieving fingers touch the bicycles, hesitantly at first but gaining confidence with each second. There were almost as many new presents as they had old toys. Knowing they can't open any until their parents are up and knowing not to wake them until they had gone through their stockings, the girls turn to those stockings hanging heavy with goodies. Gleefully pulling them down, the girls sit on the floor to examine the treasure trove of things Santa had left in their stockings. Each lets out a pipsqueak shriek of excitement when they find McDonald's gift certificates on top. Susan, being in more of a rush than her sister, dumps the contents of the stocking on the floor in front of herself. She begins babbling happily to her sister about how great Christmas is. Awoken by the girls' quiet shrieks of delight, Kathy and David open their door and silently watch as the girls play. Remembering their guests, Kathy ducks down under the table to find no one. When she stands up she notices the house is not as cluttered as it was the night before. Apparently having the same thought, David walks to the kitchen to find the dishes washed, garbage taken out and both floor and counter wiped clean. Turning, he nearly collides with Kathy who holds an envelope out to him with tears spilling from her eyes. He takes the letter from the envelope and opens it reading, Dave and Kat, Thanks for the place to hang and crash last night. We all appreciate it. We didn't have a thing to give you so we decided to clean up the mess from last night and boot out the door early so you could have Christmas with your kids. We'll catch you later tonight. Peace be yours and Merry Christmas! Joe, Tamara, Jason, Amanda David holds Kathy close to his chest and sheds a tear himself. After a brief moment David folds the letter and puts it in his pocket, then the two head down the hall to let the girls open their presents. Becky and Susan start giggling when they see their parents. David sits down on the couch while Kathy hands out presents; it's her turn this year. David watches as the pile of presents before his children grows and the pile before himself and Kathy barely begin to sprout. The children got presents from grandparents, parents, and Toy For Tots. He and Kathy have cards from each of their parents with $100 between the two in them. They also have the gift each had gotten the other. While the twins tear open their presents, Kathy and David watch them. They commit to memory the wonder and amazement on their kid's faces with each new revelation found under the wrapping paper. Kathy records each smile for posterity with her 110 camera. After sending the girls to put away their new things, Kathy hands David the gift she has for him. He opens the bulky present with as much enthusiasm as the girls had been showing. Wide eyes fill with the sight of the black leather bomber jacket exposed for them to view. His hands caress the jacket with as much longing as satisfaction. "Thank you Kat, I love you." He says with a tremulous voice. David leans over and hands her a large box nearly a foot square. Kathy takes the box, which is surprisingly light. She carefully peels the wrapping paper from it and opens it. Inside are many Styrofoam peanuts. She glances at David who gives her an enigmatic smile and an innocent look. She sifts through the peanuts and finds another box, on the bottom. Opening that one, she finds more Styrofoam. In the spirit of the game she sifts through it and finds a third box, much smaller than the previous two. Beginning to get annoyed, she opens the third box to find a mass of tissue paper. Inside the tissue paper is a small, black velvet box. All trace of annoyance gone, her shaking hands open the box to reveal a gold locket. Her eyes shine as she reads the inscription on the back, "This will keep us close to your heart. I love you Kat." Opening the catch reveals a picture of the twins on one side and one of David on the other. Handing it to David she asks, "Put it on for me please?" Then she turns around and holds up her hair. David places the locket around her neck and locks it just as the girls come running from their room dressed for a winter walk. David and Kathy share a long embrace, hindered by two excited kids, then get ready to head out. McDonald's is serving a free Christmas breakfast to low income families who signed up for Toys For Tots. There are children in every community who will only receive a toy for Christmas due to Toys For Tots. For those that can, I ask that you pick up another toy when Christmas shopping and donate it to Toys For Tots. ©1999 DreamEvil < !signature--> Now and forever, my heart hears ~one voice~. DreamEvil© ------------------------------------------------------- "Either kill me or take me as I am, because I'll be damned if I ever change..." Count Donatien Alphonse Francois de Sade (Marquis de Sade) [This message has been edited by DreamEvil (edited 12-22-1999).] |
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Severn Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704 |
Wow. I have already said how I feel about this - and I still have the tears. This is an achingly poignant story that deserves to be read and felt by all - definitely a candidate for publishing dear friend. Let's pray that the burden of many parents and the sorrow of children is lessened by many giving people - all over the world. Scott, you have done yourself proud - your characters were so alive for me, you painted their portraits so well. This is an enormous work. Well done. K |
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WhtDove Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-22
Posts 9245Illinois |
Scott, you've wove a wonderful story that tugs at the heart strings. There certainly are those less fortunate not only during this season, but all year round. Thank you for this story and the reminder Scott. You've done an excellent job! |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
I am awed! Wonderful contrasting stories Scott! As per your request, I'll move this to the Holiday Forum.  |
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Julie Jordan Scott Member
since 1999-09-19
Posts 146Bakersfield, CA USA |
thanks.....thanks and more thanks..... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Holiday Greetings in Words: http://www.5passions.com/scrooge.htm http://www.5passions.com/agift.htm |
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Marilyn Member Elite
since 1999-09-26
Posts 2621Ontario, Canada |
You have out done yourself Scott. This is indeed wonderful. The contrast in economic circumstances, yet the anticipation and love in each is evident. |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California |
Excellent, Scott, hit home with this one in many ways. May God bless you and yours this Christmas. Michael |
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Pepper Member Elite
since 1999-08-19
Posts 3079Southern Florida |
The reader cannot help but be touched DE.....I loved this piece and would love to print this out with your permission... I agree with Severn...this should be published  A wonderful! wonderful work!! A soul that writes from the heart and shares it, truly gives a gift extraordinaire! Shannon |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
Scott, you have outdone yourself here brother! Rarely have I seen a story with so much heart! I agree completely with you and every year I do just that! And if I can afford to, I try to choose more than one child in the hopes that I can give a little more joy! |
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Nicole Senior Member
since 1999-06-23
Posts 1835Florida |
A bittersweet smile from me, my dear friend. For words, I'm at a loss. Hug those precious kids of yours tight, from me..and one for you too. May I never be too busy to help another's load, Then I'll be drinking from the saucer 'cause my cup has overflowed. --Author Unknown |
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doreen peri Member Elite
since 1999-05-25
Posts 3812Virginia |
Toys for Tots is indeed a wonderful organization that has helped families to give their children gifts at Christmas. Thank you for bringing this charity to light here at Passions, Scott, and for suggesting readers donate to Toys for Tots. Your parallel stories show that, with Love, our "separations" because of finances or circumstance, are virtually non-existant. I found it interesting that you portrayed the second, "low income" family as "needy". It seemed that the family love you described AND the many gifts they were able to give to their children, despite the methods they needed to obtain those gifts, convinced me that this family is living in abundance. No matter what our circumstance.... no matter what our financial means... Let us not forget the greatest gift, Christ Himself, which is why we celebrate Christmas to begin with. God's gift of Christ to us overcomes all other gifts. This Christmas I pray that those who don't know Him will meet Him and understand that He is their connection to abundant, fulfilling, and rewarding lives. I also pray that the truth of Christmas isn't overshadowed by materialism. Thank you for sharing this story you've written, Scott. Wishing you, and all of the Passions friends & "family" a beautifully rewarding Christmas, complete with the Gift of Christ. -doreen |
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Tara Simms Senior Member
since 1999-08-12
Posts 1244Honea Path, SC USA |
Heartwarming tale, Scott, I really enjoyed it. It seemed so uncharacteristic of your usual writing. Thank you for remembering those less fortunate, but no less deserving. It matters not how strait the gate; How charged with punishments the scroll; I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. --W.E. Henley |
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caroline Senior Member
since 1999-08-16
Posts 1218http://members.xoom.com/belladona123/index.htm |
I could not take my eyes from this story until I'd reached the last words...It is so outstanding, my friend. You've gone and penned another masterpiece, and I believe this is one of the sweetest Christmas stories I've ever read. I love the contrasts and the similarities. Merry Christmas to you, Scott, and thank you for sharing this. It is wonderful It's not the love you fear, but the fall from the height~Edwin McCain |
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Beki Senior Member
since 1999-09-15
Posts 1569Newport Beach, CA, USA |
This is amazing writing my friend, fresh, compassionate, effective.....characters believable and alive, message beautiful. It is so hard for me to believe this came from the same hand as Party Favors... I loved reading this now, at 4am Christmas Eve. My family has often been gifted by "secret Santas" and it is a blessing we will never forget, and always seek to pass on when we are able.The truth is, we are all children at Christmas, and no child , no matter their circumstances, can resist the magic and wonder of the day, it takes so little to make a child smile, thanks for the reminder |
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hoot_owl_rn Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750Glen Hope, PA USA |
Scott....this is absolutely one of the most wonderful pieces of prose I have had the opportunity to read. Your eye for detail never ceases to amaze me in your writing. You use such imagery that it brings a vivid picture to mind as one reads. The inspiration, the idea, behind this is fabulous. One can have nothing and still so very much. Thanks for letting us all have the opportunity to realize that this holiday season. |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Scott, Soul-Brother, WOW!!! this has certainly touched my heart. It is really beautiful. This is certainly an excellent piece!!! What comes from the heart goes to the heart. Samuel Coleridge |
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