"How could you not want to help decorate the town's Christmas tree?" Mary asked. She looked quizzically at the seven men. They were in the saloon; JD, Josiah, and Buck stood at the counter, and Chris, Vin, Ezra, and Nathan sat at a nearby table, playing poker.
"Ain't it too early to be decoratin' for Christmas?" JD asked. He raised his glass of beer to his lips and took a drink.
"Certainly not," Mary answered. "It's two days after Thanksgiving. Just the right time to get in the Christmas spirit."
"I believe Ebenezer Scrooge described it best," Ezra said as he dealt out another hand of poker. " 'Bah humbug.'"
Mary shook her head. "I just don't understand it. Josiah, surely you want to help?"
"Nope," Josiah said. "I'm busy enough trying to get the church ready for Christmas services."
Mary threw her arms in the air and turned toward the door. "I give up!" When she got to the door, she turned around. "If you boys change your minds, please come out and help. Billy and I would appreciate it." With that, she left the saloon.
"I thought she'd never leave," Buck remarked.
"What kind of poker hand do you call this, Ezra?" Chris said, throwing his cards on the table.
"A winning hand," Ezra said.
"Winning?! I couldn't have won even by a miracle."
"I didn't say it was a winning hand for you. It would have been successful for me," Ezra said, a wicked grin on his lips.
Chris shook his head and walked over to the bar. He put a dollar on the counter and waited while Inez got a bottle of whiskey for him.
"It seems like we just got over last Christmas, now we got this one to worry about," JD said.
"I for one ain't worryin' about Christmas," Vin said.
"You don't celebrate Christmas, Vin?" JD asked.
"I celebrate it, just not like everyone else. I just don't think you need a tree and presents to get in the Christmas mood. It's something inside you that gives you the Christmas spirit, not fancy decorations," Vin explained.
The men were silent after that, contemplating what Vin had said. Maybe he was right; maybe Christmas is something you feel inside.
+ + + + + + +
"Vin, are you just about ready?" his mother called up the stairs.
"I'll be down in a minute, Ma!" Vin yelled. He studied himself in the mirror and frowned. He hated wearing suits. Suits were too constricting and you couldn't play anything fun when you wore one.
Vin left his room and walked to the top of the stairs. He saw his mother waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. When she looked up at him, a wide smile formed itself on her face. Even though he was five years old then, he still remembered how beautiful his mother was at that moment. Her light brown hair was tied up, and she wore a lovely cream colored gown with tiny pink roses embroidered on the skirt. Her deep blue eyes shone with love as she looked up at him.
"Don't you look handsome," she said. Vin walked down the stairs and smiled a tight smile. He really wanted to get out of that suit.
His mother kneeled down, put her hands on his shoulders, and held Vin out at arm's length. "Let me take a good look at you," she said. She studied Vin's appearance, all the while smiling. "You're growin' up so fast, Vin." Tears welled up in her eyes and she turned her head away.
"Don't cry, Ma," Vin said. He threw his arms around her neck and held on to her tightly. He knew she hadn't been feeling well for some time. But he had no idea just how sick she really was.
His mother returned his hug, and then pulled away. "They're happy tears, Vin. You make me very happy," she said. Wiping the tears from her cheek, she stood up and smiled. "Come on. I think Santa came to our house early."
"Why?" Vin asked. His curiosity always got the best of him.
His mother laughed. "Because you're his favorite. And besides, he knew you wouldn't be able to wait for tomorrow morning."
Vin and his mother walked into their living room hand-in-hand. It was a small room, with modest furnishings and very few knickknacks. It was the same story of every room in the small house. Vin's father had left them with next to nothing. Their only source of income was the money Vin's mother made from doing other peoples' laundry. That was barely enough for food and clothes. But their poverty had never stopped them from being happy.
A branch from a pine tree sat on top of a table in the living room. That tree and a small wooden Nativity scene Vin's mother had inherited from her parents were the only Christmas decorations in the house. They couldn't afford a real Christmas tree, so Vin always broke off a branch from one of the nearby pine trees.
"Vin, you found us the most beautiful Christmas tree this year," his mother said. "I don't think we've ever had one prettier than this one." She smiled at the little branch, and then turned to Vin. "Close your eyes."
"Oh, Ma," Vin whined.
"Go on, Vin. Close your eyes."
Reluctantly, he closed his eyes. He heard his mother moving around and started to open one eye. He saw his mother near the window, reaching behind a curtain.
"No peeking," she said, still with her back to Vin.
He quickly closed his eye and scrunched up his face, waiting for the signal to open his eyes.
"Okay, Vin, you can open your eyes," his mother said.
Vin opened his eyes and saw his mother standing in front of him, a small box in her hands.
"Merry Christmas, Vin," she said.
Vin took the box and stared at it, wide-eyed. What could it be? he wondered. He slowly took the lid off and gazed inside the box. His eyes could have popped out of his head.
"My very own harmonica!" he exclaimed.
His mother nodded. "I saw you eyein' that at the General Store a couple weeks ago and I knew I had to get it for you."
Vin still didn't know where she had gotten the money to buy him that harmonica. It must have cost at least three dollars.
"Thanks, Ma!" Vin said, throwing his arms around her waist. She returned the hug, and then Vin pulled away. "Now you close your eyes."
"All right," his mother said. She closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips. Vin ran into the kitchen and pulled a package from a cabinet. He ran back to the living room and stood in front of his mother.
"Open ‘em," he said.
His mother opened her eyes and looked down at her son holding the package. Vin held the package up and she took the box from him. She opened the package and found a wooden comb inside.
"I made that for you, Ma," Vin said.
Tears glistened in his mother's eyes. "It's beautiful, Vin. Really beautiful." She kneeled down and embraced Vin. "I'll cherish this as long as I live."
"Merry Christmas, Ma," Vin said, holding tightly to his mother.
"Merry Christmas. I love you, Vin."
"I love you too, Ma."
It was the last Christmas he would ever spend with his mother.
+ + + + + + +
Josiah always remembered one particular Christmas spent with his father. They were in India, on one of his father's missionary trips. Josiah was a young man, only recently turning twenty years of age.
Christmas Day began with the hot sun burning down and through the window by Josiah's bed. Josiah woke up early, not even realizing what day it was. When he remembered, he longed to be back home. What was Christmas without snow, anyway? he thought.
The day began like any other. Josiah and his father said their morning prayers, followed by a modest breakfast. They then headed out and Josiah's father preached to anyone who would listen. After an hour of that, Josiah followed his father around the village and listened to the elder Mr. Sanchez try to convince the Indian people to convert to Christianity. Josiah never once said a word during this time. He had tried one time and had only succeeded in raising his father's ire. He knew it was better to keep his own thoughts and ideas to himself. Besides, the last thing his father wanted to hear was Josiah's positive opinion about Hinduism.
The day passed uneventfully, just as any other day passed. The Indian people had refused to believe that Christianity was the right path to take once again. Josiah's father always felt defeated by the end of the day, wishing that just once he could convert somebody. Anybody.
The sun set on Josiah and his father eating dinner. They didn't have much, but neither one complained. They ate in silence, each lost in his separate thoughts.
Josiah studied his father's face while they ate. He could never read his father's hard face. The old man masked his feelings well. Josiah could not figure out why his father hadn't even mentioned Christmas to him.
"Do you want more water?" his father asked.
"No. No, thank you," Josiah answered. He had been startled by his father's voice.
His father stood up and walked to a corner of the room. He returned to the table carrying a small box. He set the box in front of Josiah and sat down.
"What's this?" Josiah asked, surprised that his father had gotten him a gift.
"Open it and see," his father said.
Josiah eyed the box suspiciously before picking it up. He slowly took the lid off and peered inside. He couldn't believe what he saw.
"I bought that from Akeem," Josiah's father said. "I hope you like it."
Josiah was speechless for a few minutes. Inside the box was an image of a small fish hanging on a chain. Josiah knew that in the Hindu religion, this image represented the beginning of a spiritual journey. He couldn't understand why his father had gotten him this. "But…why?" he finally asked.
"I know that you are sympathetic to the Hindu people and their beliefs. I got that for you because…well, because you're my son and I love you. Even if we do disagree."
Josiah nodded his head, disbelieving that his father had done something like this. "Thank you."
"Merry Christmas, son."
"Merry Christmas, Father."
It was one of the rare moments that Josiah and his father had gotten along, at least in a small way. And no matter what Josiah's feelings were about his father, this was his favorite memory, and he hoped he never forgot that special Christmas.
+ + + + + + +
It had been four years since Buck had seen his mother. His job as sheriff had prevented him from going to see her for quite some time.
Buck had pulled some strings to get away from his job for the holidays, and before he knew it, he was riding into the town of his youth.
As he approached the brothel where his mother still resided, he couldn't help but be amazed at how the old place hadn't changed. He could see the same old curtains in the windows, the same rug lying on the porch, even the same sign hung above the door: "Rose's Retreat: Drinks and Entertainment."
Buck dismounted his horse and walked through the front door. The room hadn't changed one bit. The same furniture was scattered around the large room. Two women whom Buck had never seen before stood in one corner, talking. When one of them noticed Buck, she walked over to him, a smile on her lips.
"How can I help you, stranger?" she asked.
"Well, darlin', I'm here to see my mother," Buck answered.
The woman's eyes lit up. "You must be Buck! Amelia talks non-stop about you. She didn't mention that you were coming to visit. Was she expecting you?"
Buck shook his head. "This a surprise visit."
The woman turned to the other lady, who still stood off in the corner. "Mandy, go tell Amelia she's got a gentleman visitor."
Mandy left the room to fetch Buck's mother.
"I'm Amber, by the way," the woman told Buck.
"It's nice to meet you, Amber. Merry Christmas."
"Your mother said you were handsome, but she didn't mention just how handsome you are."
Buck smiled. "Thank you, darlin'."
"Who on earth would ask for me specifically?" Buck could hear his mother's voice coming down the hall. Finally she entered the room. It seemed to Buck that time had never touched this house or its inhabitants. Even though his mother had just turned 39, she still looked like she was 22. Her dark blond hair was in a braid and her brown eyes lit up when she saw Buck.
Amelia's mouth hung open and she walked closer to her son. "Buck?" She couldn't believe he was standing right there. "Buck, you're here!" She rushed across the room and embraced him, tears of happiness falling from her eyes.
"Hey, Ma." Buck embraced his mother.
His mother pulled away and looked up into his face. "Well…what are you doing here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
"I wanted to surprise ya," Buck answered. "Is there something wrong with wantin' to see my mother for the holidays?"
"No, of course not. It's just…well, I'm so happy you're here." Amelia wiped the tears from her cheeks and took Buck's hand, leading him across the room to a couple of chairs. "Do you want anything? Something to eat or drink?"
"No, I'm fine." Buck smiled as he looked at his mother. Amber and Mandy could tell how much he loved and admired his mother just by the way he looked at her.
Amelia turned to the two other women. "Buck is a sheriff." She looked back at Buck with pride. "A lot of people depend on him."
"I'm sure these fine ladies are bored with hearing about me," Buck said, a sheepish grin on his face.
Amber smiled. "We could never be bored with hearing about you. We're going to leave you two alone for a while," she said, taking Mandy's hand and leaving the room.
Amelia shook her head in amazement. "I just can't get over it. My Buck, here for Christmas. How long can you stay?"
"'Til after New Year's."
"Good! That gives us a little over a week together." Amelia squeezed Buck's hand. "You can't imagine how happy I am to see you."
"I've missed you, Ma," Buck said. "It's been way too long since I've seen you."
"I know, honey," Amelia said. "But I understand; you're an important person and you can't neglect your duties in Dodge City."
Buck stood up and walked over to a package that sat near the door. "I brought you somethin'," he said as he carried it back to his mother.
Amelia took the package from Buck and smiled. "You didn't have to get me a present."
Buck grinned and sat down. "Yes I did. It's Christmas."
Amelia ripped the paper from the package and beheld a beautiful burgundy shawl, delicately knitted. She ran her hand over the soft wool and looked at Buck, her eyes glistening with tears. "Buck, it's…beautiful. Thank you so much." She leaned over and hugged her son. "I wish I had known you were coming. I would've gotten you something."
Buck shook his head and smiled down into his mother's warm brown eyes. "Just seein' you is gift enough, Ma. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Buck."
Every time Buck saw his mother after that, she had that shawl wrapped around her shoulders and he saw her absentmindedly stroking the garment, a warm smile on her face. He knew she showed it off to anyone who passed by, bragging about her son who was a sheriff. Buck couldn't help but smile, thankful that he was able to fill her with such pride.
The last time Buck saw his mother, she lay on her deathbed, clutching the shawl close to her. In her final moments, she kept that gift close to her; a gift given to her out of love on a special Christmas visit from Buck.
+ + + + + + +
A tall fire burned on the ground, set in the center of the slave's quarters. A cluster of small shacks were situated in a circle on the edge of Mr. Jackson's property. The cool Georgian breeze blew a few sparks away from the fire. Stars twinkled brightly against the pitch black sky, and the fire illuminated the faces of the slaves standing around the fire.
Six-year-old Nathan Jackson, "Little Nate" as he was known among his people, chased his little sister around the fire, causing the little four-year-old to scream with fright. Nathan laughed gleefully, yelling, "The ghost of Christmas is gonna get you!"
"Papa! Papa!" Ruthie screamed.
Obadiah stepped forward and watched with amusement as Nathan chased Ruthie around. Then he stepped forward and grabbed Nathan's arm, pulling the little boy close to him.
"You stop chasing your sister now," he said. "It's Christmas Eve. You be nice or Santa Claus won't give you nothin' tomorrow."
"Aw, there ain't no Santa Claus, Pa," Nathan said with the sophistication only a six-year-old has. "It's just something old Mr. Jackson made up."
"Even so, you don't chase your sister on Christmas Eve. Now go and behave yourself." Obadiah patted Nathan lightly on his bottom and went to calm down Ruthie.
Nathan ran through the crowd of people to his mother, who sat nursing his baby brother, Isaac. He bent over and gasped for breath. He raised his head and looked up at his mother.
"Mama, are we gettin' presents? The white kids are gettin' presents."
His mother looked at him and smiled sadly. "No, my little peanut, we aren't. Christmas ain't just about gettin' things."
"But if the white kids are gettin' presents, why aren't we?" Nathan had always been a curious child; too curious for his own good sometimes.
His mother sighed. "We ain't as well off as them. But we have each other and that's all we need. That and God's love. Now where's your papa?"
Nathan turned around and pointed to the fire. "He's over there with Ruthie. Mama, why don't we have a tree like the white folks? With decorations and stuff?"
His mother moved baby Isaac to her other side and closed her eyes. "Nathan, why don't you go find Samuel and play for a while? But be sure to be back here for prayer, you hear me?"
Nathan looked at his feet and said quietly, "Yes, Mama."
"Run along now." She smiled sadly again. "And Nathan?"
"Yes, Mama?"
"Always remember I love you." She reached out with her free hand and caressed his cheek.
He gave her a big smile and ran off to find his eldest brother, Samuel.
The rest of the night consisted of Nathan and the other slave children playing tag, the adults sang and danced, and a feeling of everlasting peace hung in the air, making the people oblivious to the harsh reality that permeated their world on all other nights. And this Christmas seemed different than all the others that Nathan remembered; it seemed to hold a special feeling in the air, like everything would always be okay and this happiness would last forever. The people celebrated like they never celebrated before, with perpetual smiles on their faces. Even the songs they sang seemed to hang in the air, refusing to be carried away by the wind to distant regions.
Nathan ran across the celebration square to join his family for prayer when a tall man who worked as a gardener stopped him in his tracks.
"Hey, Little Nate, hold on there, boy."
Nathan skidded to a halt and looked up at the man. He seemed very large to the small boy; his shoulders seemed as wide as the earth itself and his arms were bulging with muscles. Yes despite his stature, his face was kind, with warm brown eyes and an infectious smile.
"Where you off to in such a hurry, Little Nate?" he asked.
"My family. I gotta be with them for the Christmas prayer," Nathan answered.
"Well, hold on a minute. I got somethin' for you." The man stepped away and went over to a table that sat beside his shack's door.
Nathan frowned with confusion as the man picked up a small package and carried it back to him.
The man held out the package to him and smiled. "Merry Christmas, Little Nate."
Nathan took the small parcel hesitantly and looked up at him again. "What is it?"
"Open it and see."
It was the first present he had ever gotten. Carefully, he removed the brown paper that covered the gift and then he opened the box slowly. He peeked inside and his eyes widened when he beheld the gift.
"Oh boy!" He removed a pocket knife from the box and stared at it with youthful wonder.
The man smiled. "I thought you might like that. You be careful with it now. You'd best run along so your folks won't miss you."
"Thanks!" Nathan started running again, going to stand with his family for the prayer.
Obadiah looked down at him with love and pride in his eyes when he reached them. His older siblings moved aside to make room for him and he stood beside Samuel and his mother, who also looked at him lovingly. Nathan stuck his gift in his back pocket and held his mother's hand as all the slaves joined together in thanking God for everything they had. There were no laments that night, no cries of anguish; only love and happiness filled their hearts and minds. As Nathan stood there with his mother next to him, squeezing his hand, that happiness filled his young heart and made him realize that Christmas didn't have to be decorations and presents; Christmas was a time to be with the ones you love the most and to share the joy of the holiday with them. And for once, Nathan didn't envy the white kids that lived on the plantation.
It was the last Christmas his family would ever spend together.
+ + + + + + +
JD stroked the horse's nose and pulled his coat tighter around himself. The snow was coming down in thick clumps outside, but that didn't mean JD didn't have chores. Being the stable boy, he still had to make sure the horses were warm and had enough feed.
JD turned away and headed for the next stall. He cupped his hands together and blew into them, trying to keep them warm. He filled the animal's bucket of oats and smiled. "Hey, Lamont," he greeted. He often talked to the horses, feeling they were the only ones who really understood him. He certainly couldn't talk to the kids that lived in the mansion where his mother worked.
When JD was finished, he pulled his hat further over his ears and went out into the blizzard conditions. His feet sunk into the five inches of snow that had accumulated and crunched along back to the house. He stomped the excess snow off of his boots at the servant's door and went inside the house. He brushed off the snow from his coat before taking it off and hanging it by the door. He removed his hat, ran a hand through his hair, and hung the hat up as well. He smiled at the young maid who was taking a tray out to the dining room and climbed the stairs to his room. He closed the door behind him; it was habit of his to keep his privacy and quite common for a boy of thirteen. Then he walked over to his bed, bent over, and pulled a package out from underneath. He smiled when he envisioned his mother's reaction to the present. She had been raving about a fur muff she had seen at the beginning of the year. JD had been saving his money all year long and had finally gotten together enough to buy it for her. And with the cold snow outside, it would definitely come in handy.
A soft knock sounded on JD's door and he quickly shoved the gift back under his bed. "Who is it?" he called.
"It's me," his mother said softly.
JD opened his door and smiled at his mother. She was a petite woman, with chestnut brown hair and deep brown eyes. She and JD were about the same height at the time; by the time of her death, JD stood a few inches taller than her.
"Christmas dinner is about to start," she said.
JD nodded and stepped out of his room, closing the door again. He followed his mother down the stairs to the servant's dining room. Now that the owners of the home had their dinner and were happily engaged in eating, the servants, with the exception of those who still had to wait on the owners, could eat their Christmas dinner.
The servants gathered around the table and joined hands for the prayer. Then they began passing the dishes around and everyone loaded their plates with mounds of food. They talked and laughed together, and feasted on the delicious meal. Before long, everyone was stuffed.
JD sat back in his chair, feeling like he wouldn't eat for the next two months. The cook, a rotund woman who tasted her food quite liberally, stood from her chair at the head of the table and announced, "Don't rest just yet. We still have the cherry pie for dessert."
"I can't eat another bite!" JD complained.
"Well, you'll have to, because I'm not letting you leave until you do," the cook replied.
JD sighed and leaned back while his mother took his plate. One of the servants began singing a carol, and soon the entire room was filled with lively singing. JD sang along and clapped his hands along with the song.
After dessert was over with, the servant's gathered in their large parlor and some exchanged presents. JD's mother gave him a small package and upon opening it, JD found a small pile of dime store novels. He hugged his mother tightly.
"I know how much you love reading those and couldn't resist," she told him as she returned his hug.
"I do. Thank you, Mother."
Afterwards, the servants joined in more singing as the sky outside darkened to the shade of night. Soon the only light came from the candles that sat around the room and the candles that decorated the small Christmas tree.
JD tapped his mother's shoulder and whispered in her ear, "I'll be right back."
His mother nodded and he disappeared up the stairs. Only seconds later, he came running back down, the present for his mother in his hands.
"Merry Christmas, Mother," he said as he handed her his gift.
His mother's eyes widened as she took the box. "JD, you didn't have to…"
"I wanted to," JD interrupted her. "Go on, open it."
JD's mother untied the ribbon and took the lid off the box slowly. She gasped as she pulled the white fur muff out of the box.
"JD," she said breathlessly.
"I know you're going to say I shouldn't have spent my money, but I wanted you to have something pretty," he said.
His mother shook her head in disbelief and then rose from her seat. She took JD in a warm embrace and held him tightly. "JD, I'm so proud of you. You're going to make something of yourself, I just know it."
"Oh, Ma…" JD protested. He always felt uncomfortable when his mother lavished praise on him, especially in front of the others.
"Don't be modest, JD," she said. "You're a special boy. You're my pride and joy."
"I love you, Mother," JD whispered so the others wouldn't hear.
His effort was futile, because the other servants heard. The cook sniffed back her tears and blew her nose into her handkerchief.
"I love you too, JD," his mother whispered back. "And I love my gift. Thank you."
JD still got teary-eyed when he remembered that Christmas because of the happy memories it had given him. It was a special day and one he hoped he would never forget.
+ + + + + + +
Twelve-year-old Ezra Standish rose out of bed feeling rather indifferent to the fact that it was Christmas. He didn't feel any kind of magic in the air, as his Aunt Lauralee said he would. For reasons only he could understand, he felt a little depressed. He longed to be grown-up and on his own.
A tapping sounded on Ezra's bedroom door as he was just finishing up brushing his hair. He looked away from the mirror and called out, "Yes? Who is it?"
"It's Augustus, sir," came the reply.
Ezra set his brush down and opened his door just a crack. He peered up at the black man, who stood smiling at the boy. His teeth shone whiter than snow in his mouth and he had the darkest complexion of all the slaves. He served primarily as a butler, but had often found himself taking care of the rowdy children of the house.
"Your aunt and uncle say to get on downstairs for breakfast."
Ezra nodded and closed his door again. He grabbed his jacket from the bed and put it on before exiting his room. When he got out into the hallway, his cousin Paul, who was the same age as he, surprised him by tackling him to the floor.
"Ha ha!" Paul laughed. "I got you!"
The two boys roughhoused for a while, laughing and playing. Paul was Ezra's favorite cousin; he had always made Ezra feel welcome and Ezra felt he could relate with him better than any of his other cousins. The whole family knew the two boys got along better than most boys their age, and Paul's parents had often expressed their desire to have Ezra live with them permanently. But Ezra knew before long, he would be taken away and shipped to another house.
Augustus tore the two boys away from each other and looked at them admonishingly. "There ain't no wrestlin' on Christmas mornin'. Paul, your folks ain't gonna be happy. You done messed up your hair, and Ezra's too. Get back in your rooms and clean yourselves up. Hurry up now."
Ezra unwillingly went back and fixed up his hair, then retreated downstairs. He found his aunt and uncle seated on opposites ends of the long dining table and quickly sat in his seat. His younger cousin, Melanie, a sweet girl of four with blond curls tied in pigtails, smiled across the table at him. She looked up to him and he often found her tagging along behind him wherever he went.
"Mewwy Chwistmas, Ezwa," she said.
"Merry Christmas, Melanie," Ezra said, smiling back at her. He loved her like she was his own sister. "And same to you, Aunt Lauralee. Uncle Edward."
"Merry Christmas, Ezra," Lauralee and Edward replied in unison.
"We figured we should eat before ripping into the presents," Lauralee told him.
"Pwesents! Pwesents!" Melanie exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. Her blue eyes twinkled as her small fists hit the table.
A maid came in and set plates down in front of everyone as Paul bounded into the room. He playfully punched Ezra's shoulder before taking his seat. Everyone dug into their food and pleasant conversation passed between Lauralee and Edward.
"Is my mother coming today?" Ezra asked.
His aunt and uncle fell silent and exchanged sad glances. Ezra kept his eyes on his plate, mindlessly twirling his fork along the plate's edge. He knew the answer, but he hoped they would tell him what he wanted to hear.
"I'm sorry, Ezra," Lauralee said softly. "We haven't heard from her."
Ezra sighed. "That's all right. I didn't think she would come anyway."
Edward set his fork down and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Ezra, you know Maude. She could pop in at any time. She's always been unpredictable. Even when we were children, our parents could never figure out what she would do. She may yet surprise us all."
Ezra shook his head, certain she wouldn't show up. The last Christmas he had spent with his mother was a good seven years ago. Why should the tradition change now? He went back to eating his breakfast, but the conversation that had passed between his aunt and uncle had ceased.
When breakfast had ended, Melanie jumped from her seat and ran over to Ezra. "Come on, Ezwa." She held out her tiny hand to him.
Ezra looked to his aunt for permission to be dismissed. She nodded at the children and Ezra took Melanie's hand. They walked to the parlor, with Paul following behind.
When they reached the parlor, their eyes widened in wonder. Presents piled high around the Christmas tree and the stockings over the fireplace were overflowing with small toys and goodies.
Melanie tugged on Ezra's hand. Ezra bent down and Melanie whispered in his ear, "Santa Claus was here."
Ezra nodded. "Yes, he was." And stood straight and looked at Paul. Both boys had greedy glints in their eyes. They broke out in a run and pulled their stockings down. Ezra pulled Melanie's down and handed it to her, and the little girl plopped herself down and dumped the contents on the floor.
Lauralee and Edward came into the room, smiling as the children shone bright as candles as they found each surprise from their stocking.
"Looks like you children were all good this year," Edward commented.
Ezra held a toy gun in his hand and a guilty expression crossed his young face. His mind drifted to the times his mother had carted him off to some far-off town and had him assist her in a con. Ezra always knew it was wrong and hated hurting people, but he knew if he didn't, his mother would have been disappointed. And every time he saw her, he couldn't help but hope that he would meet her expectations, and she would be so happy that she would keep him with her and be a mother to him. His hopes, however, always went unfulfilled.
Edward saw Ezra's sad expression and stepped over to him. "Ezra, I…You've been a good boy. We've never had any trouble with you. Same with your other aunts and uncles. Don't let Maude get you down."
Ezra nodded and tried to push thoughts of Maude out of his head.
Paul stepped over, holding a similar toy gun in his hand. "Hey, Ezra, let's have a shootout."
Ezra stood up and the boys stood a few feet apart. They stared at each other intently and then drew their guns. Ezra got his drawn first and Paul staggered back and fell down, laughing. Ezra laughed as well and said, "Now I got you!"
Everyone moved to the tree and began to open the presents that lay underneath. Though Ezra received many presents that year, he noticed that none of them were from his mother. He tried not to let it bother him; after all, a gift from Maude was probably the outcome of some con she had pulled.
Ezra grabbed one of the boxes from the tree and walked over to where Melanie sat, opened parcels and ripped paper around her. She was humming a nameless song, as children often do, and fingering a small comb for her hair. Ezra sat down beside her and set the box down in front of her.
"I purchased this for you," he said softly.
A big smile covered Melanie's face as she pulled the box closer to her. She ripped the paper off and opened the box delicately. She squealed with delight as she pulled out a pretty rag doll with hair that matched her own and a blue dress. She hugged it close to her and looked up at her cousin. "Thank you, Ezwa," she whispered.
Ezra smiled and nodded, then leaned over and kissed her forehead.
"I got something for you," she said. She clambered to her feet and ran behind the sofa, where her parents sat. She emerged again, holding a piece of paper. She ran back to Ezra and held the paper out to him. "I made this for you."
Ezra looked at the paper and smiled at the gift. It was a drawing of two stick figures, one of them Ezra and the other Melanie. They were holding hands and green grass grew tall under their feet. A yellow sun was drawn in the corner and scrawled across the top were the words, "I love you Ezra." It was a drawing that he had always hung on his wall no matter what house he resided in, and one he still had almost twenty years later.
"That's for if you have to weave, so you won't forget me," she said quietly, a hint of sadness in her small voice.
Ezra wrapped an arm around her shoulders and whispered to her, "I could never forget you, Melanie. Never in a million years."
She threw her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, "I wuv you, Ezwa."
"I love you too, Melanie," he said.
It was the happiest Christmas of Ezra's life. Never again would he celebrate in such an environment of love. For once in his life, he had felt like he truly belonged.
+ + + + + + +
"Pa! Pa!" Adam Larabee came running through the front door and nearly knocked Chris over.
"Whoa! Easy there, partner," Chris said, laughing. "What's the rush?"
Adam gasped for breath, obviously excited about something. "Ma's comin' back from town!"
Chris ruffled Adam's hair and walked to the front door. He stood on the porch and watched as Sarah drove the wagon up to the house.
"How was the service?" he asked as he walked over to help her down.
"It was wonderful. Reverend Wilson gave a beautiful sermon," she answered. "I wish you and Adam had come with me, but you two were sleeping so soundly. I didn't have the heart to wake you."
Chris bent down and kissed her gently before taking her hand and walking into the house. Sarah let go of his hand when they got inside.
"All right, now stay out of the kitchen," Sarah ordered, a smile on her face, a smile that Chris had always lived to see. "I need to make this Christmas dinner without supervision."
Chris reluctantly left the kitchen, a grin on his face.
"Is Buck intending to stop by?" Sarah called.
Chris sat down in their living area and answered slyly, "Nah. Buck found someone to spend the holiday with this year."
Adam sat at Chris' feet and drove his toy train around in a circle. "When do we open presents, Papa?"
"After dinner, Adam," Chris answered, picking up the previous day's newspaper from the seat beside him. "Anxious, are ya?"
"Uh-huh." Adam nodded.
"It'll be time before you know it, son."
Until dinnertime, Chris kept one eye on the paper and one eye on Adam, who stayed happily engaged with his toy train. The scent of the cooking food permeated the air, smelling of ham, baking bread, and strawberry pie, Chris' favorite dessert that Sarah ever made. Soon, Sarah emerged from the kitchen with a wide grin on her face.
"Time to eat!"
"Oh boy!" Adam sprang up from the floor and raced to the dining room, which was located just off of the living area and behind the kitchen.
Chris stood up and stretched his arms to the ceiling. "Can't say I argue with his enthusiasm," he remarked. As he passed Sarah, he leaned down and kissed her gently.
"Go sit down," Sarah said with a smile, patting Chris' rump lightly.
When Chris was situated at the head of the table, with Adam sitting to his right, Sarah came in, carrying a tray with their Christmas ham sitting atop it. Chris inhaled deeply and a soft purr emanated from his throat. "Sarah, that smells delicious."
"You always say that," Sarah said as she placed the tray down beside Chris. She left and brought in the rest of the dinner; mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh biscuits with butter, steamed carrots and broccoli, and cinnamon apples.
"Where's the pie?" Chris asked as Sarah sat across from him.
Sarah laughed quietly. "You know if I brought out the pie now, you boys would skip dinner and dig right in to it."
"We wouldn't do that, would we, Adam?" Chris asked, turning to his son.
Adam smiled. "Yes, we would."
Chris laughed. "You're right. We would."
They said a prayer over their dinner and began eating. Pleasant conversation filled the table. When the dinner ended, Sarah stood from the table. "I guess you want that pie now, huh?"
"Yes, please," Chris and Adam said in unison.
Sarah shook her head in amusement and cleared the plates away. When she returned, she was carrying the coveted strawberry pie.
Chris rubbed his hands together and smacked his lips. Adam imitated his father's reaction.
Sarah laughed as she cut the pie, standing between the two. "He's his father's son."
Chris put his arm around her waist and said, "But he's got his mother's beautiful eyes."
Sarah smiled down at him and then served him a slice of pie. "Dig in."
"You bet," Chris answered.
Adam wolfed his pie down, then wiped his mouth with his checkered napkin and looked up at Chris. "Can we open presents now?"
"Wait for the rest of us to finish, Adam," Sarah said.
Adam slumped in his chair; he really wanted to open his presents.
Soon, but not soon enough for Adam, Chris and Sarah had finished their slices of pie. Chris leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. "Sarah, you've outdone yourself again. I don't know how you do it every year."
"Now?" Adam asked, bouncing in his seat.
"Now," Chris answered, nodding his head.
"All right!" Adam flew from his chair and into the living area in a blur of colors.
Chris and Sarah laughed as they stood from the table. Chris waited for Sarah to exit the room, then he followed behind. They got into the main room to find Adam holding packages up to his ear and shaking the boxes. They sat down on the sofa and Sarah said, "All right, Adam, which do you want to open first?"
Adam eyed a large box in the corner, partially hidden by the Christmas tree, and pointed to it. Chris stood up and dragged the box to the middle of the room, stopping it in front of Adam. He sat back down and watched as Adam stared at the box with wide-eyed wonder.
"Go on, open it," Chris said with a smile.
Adam ripped the box open and he nearly screamed with delight as he beheld a saddle that was just his size.
"Some of our mares will probably be expecting this spring, and one of them will be yours," Chris said. "We figured you'd like your own saddle as well."
"Thanks!" Adam said enthusiastically.
As Adam opened his other presents, Chris reached around and pulled a small box from behind one of the pillows. He brought it around and placed it in Sarah's lap.
Sarah looked down and then back up at Chris, a questioning look in her eyes. "What's this?"
"Christmas present," he answered, smiling.
>"Chris, I thought we agreed only Adam would get…"
Chris placed a finger on her lips and shook his head. "Just open it."
Sarah untied the ribbon and slowly opened the parcel. She gasped when she saw the present; two small diamond earrings in the shape of hearts.
"Chris, they're beautiful!" She sniffed back the tears that filled her eyes. "They must have cost a fortune."
Chris shook his head. "Nothing is too much for you, Sarah." He leaned over and kissed her again, wondering what he had done in his life to deserve such a wonderful woman. She was his soulmate, his life. He would never do anything to hurt her. She had changed him, made him a better man. And nothing he could do would ever pay her back for all that she'd done. He pulled away, but kept his face close to hers. "I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too, Chris. Merry Christmas."
Adam smiled up at his parents, holding one of his presents, a small stuffed horse.
"What're you lookin' at?" Chris asked teasingly.
"Nothin'!" Adam said, shaking his head.
Watching Adam's face light up with every present he opened, his arm around Sarah, Chris felt for once that everything was right with the world. His life, his world, was contained in that one room. He had found a peace he hadn't known in his wild younger years, one he never thought he would have. As he sat there with his beloved family on that Christmas, he knew he never wanted that peace to end. But he would realize that life sometimes does not deal you the hand you want.
+ + + + + + +
Buck plopped his glass of beer on the counter and cleared his throat. "I, uh…well, what are you guys thinkin'?"
Ezra gathered his cards together, but didn't say a word. He squared up the deck and returned them to his coat pocket. He looked up at Nathan and raised his eyebrows.
"Maybe we should…" Nathan looked around at the others. "Maybe we should help decorate the town's tree."
"I agree with Nathan," Buck said.
"I was just thinkin' the same thing," JD said.
"Could be fun," Josiah said. "Always did like decorating for this holiday."
Vin shrugged his shoulders. "Reckon I could help put the star up on the top."
Ezra took a deep breath. "I must admit, I would be happy to partake in trimming the town with embellishments for the Christmas festivities."
Chris downed his shot of whiskey and slammed the glass on the counter. "Then it's settled. Let's go decorate this town."
The men filed out of the saloon and walked down the street to the tall Christmas tree. It towered over all the buildings at almost fourteen feet. Some of the town's citizens had already begun decorating the tree, and shiny ornaments filled the bottom half of the tree. The people milled about, laughing and singing Christmas carols. A ladder was set up beside the tree and tinsel seemed to be everywhere.
Billy Travis came running toward the men. "Are you going to help decorate?" he asked excitedly.
"We sure are, Billy," Buck answered. He spotted a young woman stretching to hang an ornament high above her head. "And I think I found who I am going to help." With that, Buck rushed off.
Billy ran back to his mother's side as the men scattered around the tree, taking up their decorating duties. Josiah climbed the ladder and began hanging tinsel up where no one had dared to decorate yet. Vin grabbed the star for the top of the tree. He got another ladder and climbed up the roof of the building that was next to the tree. He had to stretch a bit to get the star on the tree, but he made it and the townspeople clapped with cheer. Vin waved sheepishly and went to the ladder to make his way down again. The rest of the men busied themselves with hanging ornaments on the tree.
With their memories of their favorite Christmases fresh in their minds, the seven men found joy for the first time in a very long time. They smiled, laughed, and felt truly happy about where they were. And they all realized that what Vin had said earlier was true: Christmas is not only a holy day, but also a feeling that begins inside.
The End
