Tender Christmas Tales
Debbie Roome
Copyright 2011 by Debbie Roome
Smashwords Edition
A Christmas Miracle
I
was about to sink into bed when the phone rang. “Taylor, a little
girl is lost in the mountains. Be ready in ten minutes and a
cameraman will pick you up.”
My boss was like that. No
please or thank you, just orders. I fixed my hair and makeup and was
waiting when Marty arrived. “Any news?” I asked as we picked our
way through golden threads of traffic.
“It’s a kid,
staying with grandma for Christmas. Apparently she disappeared at
dusk.”
Out of the city, Marty picked up speed. It had been
gusty and snowing earlier but now the night was crisp and clear. He
snapped a button. “Let’s see what’s on the radio.” Joyful
strains of Hark the Herald Angels blared forth.
“Hardly
appropriate., I commented. “Plus I’m sick of carols. My niece
even has one as her ring tone.”
Marty laughed. “They’re
not that bad.”
“My mother’s mission in life is to get me
to her carol service on Christmas Eve.” I rolled my eyes. “I
almost hope I get called out so I’ve got an excuse not to go.”
My
mobile vibrated and I motioned to Marty to switch the radio off.
“Taylor Michaels.”
“They’ve found her. Are you almost
there?” My boss was never one to waste words.
“How long?”
I mouthed at Marty.
He held up five fingers and I passed the
news on.
“Make it three. This story’s worth
capturing.”
We rounded a bend in the road and saw a cluster
of vehicles ahead. I left Marty pulling equipment out and went to see
what was happening.
“She’s cold but alright.” a
policeman informed me. “I’ll ask the grandma about an interview –
you’re from Channel Six News, you say?”
We squeezed into
the ambulance with Grandma, a medic, a rescue worker and the little
girl. “So what’s your name, honey?”
“Carol.” Her
face was pale against tangled ebony hair.
“How old are you,
Carol?”
“Six.”
“Can you tell me the story of
how you got lost tonight?”
She sucked in a breath. “Me and
Grandma had set up the Christmas tree and I wanted to find some holly
to put around the bottom. Grandma was resting so I thought I’d just
look near the cabin.”
“And that’s when you got
lost?”
“I thought I saw a bambi in the forest so I went to
see. It was only a piece of wood but the light was gone and I
couldn’t find my way back.”
“So what happened next?”
“I
walked and walked and it was getting colder and colder. Then Jesus
told me to sing.”
“Jesus told you to sing?”
She
nodded her head firmly. “My Mommy called me Carol cos I was born at
Christmas and God gave me a special voice.”
Words failed me
for a moment. “What did you sing?”
A little colour was
creeping back into her cheeks and she smiled. “Christmas carols of
course. I sang a medley of them.”
“What’s a medley,
Carol?”
She pulled herself up and the medic adjusted a
monitor. “It’s when you sing bits of songs, one after the
other.”
“So what songs did you sing?”
Using her
fingers, she counted them off. “O Holy Night, O Come all ye
Faithful, Hark the Herald Angels Sing and Joy to the World.”
The
rescue worker cleared his throat. “Could I say something here?”
Marty swung the camera to face him.
“We’d been on
the mountain face for hours but the wind kept whipping our voices
away. Then I decided to pray. I’m not religious but I believe in
God. Anyway, a few seconds later, the wind dropped off and we heard a
voice singing like an angel, pure and sweet.” He squeezed his eyes
shut. “I’d say it was a Christmas miracle.”
I felt my
own eyes dampening. “So Jesus sent the rescuers to find you.”
“He
sure did.”
“Do you think you could sing your medley for
the viewers at home, Carol?”
I backed out of the picture as
a honeyed soprano filled the air. “O holy night, the stars are
brightly shining, this is the night of our dear Saviour’s
birth...”
It was almost tangible. A liquid awe and holy
presence that swept over me. I’d never heard carols sung like that.
Never really listened to the words and understood them. God used a
little child to touch my heart and show me the Christmas message.
I
called Mom the next morning. Told her I’d be at the carol service.
Fifty Christmas Eves
“Come
along, GG.” Maddison bubbles with teenage effervescence as she
twirls through sheets of lacy snow. “Mom and Gran are waiting in
the car.”
I slide into the back seat and smiles and squeezes
are exchanged all round.
“So where’re we going?” I
ask.
“It’s a couple of hour’s drive,” Sheryl says, “So
sit back and relax.”
“You tell me, Maddison.” I can see
she’s bursting with excitement.
“Let’s just say it
concerns the most awesome Christmas tree for miles around.”
“Is
it big?”
“Massive.”
“Close your eyes and rest,
Mom.” Sheryl twists from the driver’s seat for a moment. “It’s
Christmas Eve. You deserve a break after all the
baking.”
Obediently, I close my eyes and try and take a nap.
Instead, memories of past Christmas Eves seep into my mind. The year
I turned ten, Daddy bought a Christmas tree to plant in the front
garden. It was the same size as me and I ran my fingers through its
cool green needles. “It’s beautiful!” I exclaimed. Each year,
Daddy would measure both of us and of course the tree always won. By
the time I was sixteen, it was twice my height.
I was sixteen
the last time I saw Jack. He lived next door to us and we were best
mates, spending hours boating, fishing and swimming together. He and
I always decorated the tree together. He would stand on the ladder
and I would pass up silver baubles and strings of gold and red tinsel
and then Daddy would come out and help us with the coloured
lights.
A familiar pain tweaks my heart. How had we let things
go so terribly wrong? My parents were devastated to hear I was
pregnant and after weeks of agony and tears, decided to send me to a
home for unwed mothers.
I said goodbye to Jack on Christmas
Eve, tears streaming as we stood locked in a desperate embrace. Above
us, the Christmas tree swayed in the wind, and flurries of snow swept
against us, numbing our hands and faces. Jack pulled me even closer.
“I’ll find you,” he promised. “I’ll find you and the baby
and we’ll make a life together. I’ll get a job and look after
you.”
I never saw him again although I searched for years.
Both sets of parents had moved away, ensuring the break was final and
complete. My one blessing was that I got to keep my baby although
with harsh conditions attached. My daughter was raised as my sister.
“GG.” Madison is shaking me and I’m surprised to see
it’s dark outside. “Come and look.” She helps me out of the car
and turns me round to see a towering Christmas tree.
“Oh!”
I bring my hands up to my mouth. “It’s beautiful.” The tree is
wrapped with strings of gold and red tinsel, and silver baubles
reflect winking coloured lights. “But it’s in someone’s
garden.” A house sits like a grey smudge and windows spill yellow
squares of light across snowy lawns. It has a hint of familiarity and
I step closer before looking back at the tree.
“I’m
home!” I turn to Sheryl. “You brought me home! And look at my
tree...how big it’s grown!”
She smiles. “I called the
owner of the house. He says you’re welcome to go inside adn have a
look round for old time’s sake.”
“I can’t do that.
It’s Christmas Eve.”
“Yes you can.”
We’re
still arguing when the front door opens. “I’m sorry.” I say as
a man approaches. “I used to live here but I don’t want to
intrude...” My words lose momentum as he stops and looks intently
into my face.
“Glenda.”
There’s something
familiar about him. His voice, the dimple in his chin and the way his
mouth turns up at the corners. Surely not?
“Jack?”
We
move forward at the same time. “Your great granddaughter traced me
using the internet. I bought this house twenty years ago in the hope
that you might come back. That your memories might draw you here.”
Twenty
years? Waiting for me?
The pain of fifty Christmas Eves slips away like a ghost of Christmas
past. I reach out a hand to him. “Do you remember the last time we
stood under this tree?”
He nods
“I think we need to
make a new memory.”
We stand under the shelter of the
branches, coloured lights winking silver, red and yellow as he wraps
his arms around me. “To new beginnings.” he whispers, as I lay my
head on his shoulder.
Sowing a Cookie Seed
“I’ve
got a surprise for you, Tess.”
There was a blush on Mom’s
cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes that I hadn’t seen for months.
“What is it?”
“Have a look.” She brought a brown paper
bag from behind her back and placed it on the kitchen table.
“Ooh,
this is so exciting.” Money had been tight since Daddy died and I
knew that whatever was in the bag had cost Mom extra hours at work.
I dipped my hand in and ran my fingers across a cold
rectangular block. “This feels like butter.” I lifted it out and
placed it carefully on the table. Next out was a bag of flour and a
bottle of vanilla essence. “I know what we’re doing,” I
shouted, swinging her across the room. “We’re baking Christmas
cookies!”
Mom and I adored baking but hadn’t been able to
do any for ages. “Here’s your apron.” she called, throwing it
across the kitchen.
“We need the right music to bake to,”
I said as I flipped through radio channels. “Definitely carols.”
It didn’t take long before Angels
we have heard on high,
filled the room.
Mom listened for a moment. “That’s an
idea. We’ll make angel cookies.”
She weighed the
ingredients and I tipped them into the bowl, sieving, stirring,
kneading and rolling until I had a golden circle of dough on the
surface before me. The sweet smell of cinnamon, almond and vanilla
warmed the air and my tummy growled. “It smells so good and they’re
not even cooked yet.”
Mom smiled and dug the angel cutter
out of the drawer. “You cut and I’ll lift them on to the baking
sheets.”
The cutter was silver and outlined an angel with
spreading wings and hair to her shoulders. I pressed it into the
dough, this way and that, fitting in as many as I could. Then I
rolled out the scraps and repeated the process. When done, we had 63
angel cookies.
“You go and bath, Tess. I’ll pop the first
batch in the oven.”
“Ok, but don’t ice them without
me.”
We finished decorating the cookies three hours later.
Each had a gown of pure white icing and wings of sparkly dust and
silver balls. Their eyes were tiny currants and their lips were
slivers of cherries. “These are the best.” I stood back and
admired our handiwork. It felt amazing to be baking again and I
couldn’t wait to taste them.
“Now what are we going to do
with 63 cookies, Tess?”
“Eat them?”
Mom had other
plans. “We’ve had great fun baking, but I think there are other
families who would enjoy these. Let’s wrap them up and go and play
secret Santa.” Seeing the reluctance in my teenage features, she
frowned slightly. “God looks after us, Tess. There are people in
this street who have nothing to look forward to this
Christmas.”
“But we don’t have much ourselves.”
“We
have enough. Besides, when we give on God’s behalf, He sends us
even more seed.”
It was midnight by the time we were ready
and soft drifts of snow were falling across darkened homes. Mom and I
ate one cookie each and I placed one next to my bed. The remainder
was divided into batches and we made a list of where they were to
go.
“Don’t slip, Tess.” Mom and I stuffed giggles away
as we tiptoed down the street.
“You’re right, Mom. This
is such fun.” We left the parcels tucked by front doors and I tried
to imagine the delight when people found their surprise the next
morning.
I kept the angel cookie I’d placed by my bed; a
reminder of the cookie seeds we’d sown.
It was early on
Christmas morning that Mom burst into my room. “I told you God
looks after us!” She exclaimed, tugging at my covers. “Come and
see this!”
Piled up by our front door were several bags of
food, a cooked turkey and some gaily coloured gifts. I fell on my
knees next to Mom, digging through everything. “This is awesome!
Look at these candies, and all this fresh fruit, and there’s even a
small Christmas cake!”
Mom laughed out loud. “We’re
going to celebrate, Tess.”
We carried everything into the
kitchen and then I turned to Mom. “There’s plenty here. Why don’t
we ask the neighbours to come and eat with us?”
Her smile
came from deep within. “I was just about to suggest the same
thing.”