A Christmas Gift
By E.A. Porter
The pillow tied around his stomach and the red Santa suit could not disguise the fact that Fred was a skinny kid. Well, not a kid exactly. After all he was a freshman at State even if he still did live at home and had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. The white beard obscured most of his face and even blocked his vision when he looked down. He finished buckling up the big black belt and tried to look at himself in the mirror over the sink. He could only see his face and chest. “That’s about all I can do,” he thought. He opened the rest room door and went out into the recreation hall. The bells across his chest jingled.
In the recreation hall were twenty or so other youth bagging candy and oranges into lunch size brown paper bags. The filled bags were placed into the orange boxes. At the far end of the table Julie Grant directed the operation. Julie was a senior at the local high school and was obviously the leader of the group. Fred watched the ease with which she accepted her role and thought that she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. He hoped she would look up and notice him. Of course there were several other young men that felt the same and were doing their best to impress her by grabbing the boxes of candy and hauling them up the stairs and out to the waiting truck.
The idea to go caroling had developed in a youth committee meeting some time back. At first the idea was to get a wagon pulled by horses to take the group around to a few houses close to the church but it soon escalated into the distribution of candy to all the children in the little rural community and then someone said, “We ought to have Santa come with us.” And the plan was born. The horse drawn wagon gave way to a farm truck due to the distance and the fact that this activity had to be done in the dark. Fred was tapped to be Santa because he had access to the suit that his grandfather had worn for years. Fred’s grandfather was older now and his health was failing. “I used to enjoy playing the part of Santa,” he told Fred when he asked about wearing the suit, “but it is too hard for an old man like me. Besides the kids don’t have much respect for Santa anymore.” For the past two Christmas the suit had hung in the closet unused. “Take it,” he told Fred. “I hope someone appreciates it.” There was sadness in the old man’s voice.
At the church snow was falling lightly. The youth, dressed in warm winter clothing, clamored into the back of the two ton farm truck. It had a grain bed and the end gate had been removed but it was too high for the skinny Santa and his padding. Someone gave Fred a push and he was into the bed of the truck with the rest of the youth. The old truck lumbered slowly out of the church parking lot and onto the county road. There was a two mile drive before the carolers arrived at the first house. The kids huddled together to keep warm.
As the truck pulled up in front of the first house the carolers sang out with vigor. A few of the pre-selected youth and Santa got out of the truck. They ran to the house and knocked. The door opened. Fred burst into his best Santa imitation, “Ho, Ho, Ho,” he intoned in a voice much deeper than normal. The young couple and their three small children welcomed Santa and the other youth into their living room. Fred sat on the sofa with a child on each knee. “What do you want for Christmas?” he asked. The third child was just a baby and her mother held her in her arms but moved closer to Santa. The dad went to get a camera and took a picture. Each child got a bag of candy and the group was off to another house.
The scene was repeated over and over again. The youth alternated going into the homes but Santa made an appearance at each house even if they did not have small children. Climbing in and out of the truck began to wear Fred down and by the time they got to the Clear Creek road he was just too tired to get back up into the truck. Even with a hand from those in the truck and a push from those on the ground he was unable to get back up. “Just let me walk behind for a while,” he said. “The houses are close together here. I’ll be able to make it. Besides the Grant’s home is the last one we are going to.”
The Grants lived on a dairy farm on the other side of Clear Creek. To get to their house the truck swung across a narrow bridge. The truck swayed and those in the truck gasped but the driver negotiated the turn onto the bridge without any problems. As soon as the truck was across the bridge the carolers began to sing. Since this was Julie’s home, she and her best friend, Roxanne, grabbed four candy bags and accompanied Santa into the house.
The Grant’s home was one a very nice older home. It had been built by Julie’s grandparents when they started the dairy many years ago. Julie’s family had moved back to run the dairy when the older Grants retired this past summer. Fred bounded into the house with his most cheery “Ho, Ho, Ho” even though he was so tired that he could hardly walk and sweat was running into his eyes from the exertion of the night. Three of Julie’s younger siblings came crashing into the kitchen and pushed Santa down onto a chair. They all began to talk at once and Fred had to quiet them down so he could talk to them. He was able to get each of them to sit on his knee one at a time and tell him what they wanted for Christmas and he gave them each a bag of candy that Julie handed to him as he finished his conversation with them. Julie still held one bag of candy in her hand and Fred wondered why she had brought four bags into the house.
“Daddy,” she said, “Can we go to Lisa’s room?”
“I think that would be a good idea,” he said and led them through the living room and down the hall. In a wonderfully decorated bedroom lay a little girl. She was about ten years old but looked much younger because she was so frail. Fred walked over to the side of the bed and knelt down. “Ho, Ho, Ho,” he whispered. Lisa’s eyes opened and a smile spread across her face. “Santa!” she exclaimed. “I knew you would come.” Fred talked to her quietly for a few minutes and handed her the bag of candy that Julie had been carrying. “This is a special bag made especially for you,” he said though he didn’t know why he said it. “Merry Christmas,” and he stood up and walked slowly out of the room. Just as he reached the door he heard Christmas music. He turned to see Lisa looking at a snow globe. Inside the globe a baby Jesus lay in a manager and the shepherds bowed in reverence. Above them an angel looked down upon the Child. Tears ran down Lisa cheeks.
The truck drove out of the yard and back onto Clear Creek Road toward the church. Fred walked behind the truck still too tired to climb in but somehow feeling better than he had for quite some time. As he walked he felt and arm slip around his right arm and then one around his left. Julie and Roxanne supported him as they walked down the icy road. “Thank you,” Julie whispered. “Ever since Lisa saw that snow globe in a magazine it was the thing she wanted most for Christmas. You made her Christmas wish come true,” and she kissed him on the cheek.
“But I didn’t give it to her. I thought you did.”
Fred moved to the city when the new semester started so he could concentrate more on his studies. His mother told him that Lisa Grant started to get better right after Christmas and by spring she was up and about. “In fact, Lisa is going to sing in church on Easter Sunday,” she said.
Fred went home for Easter. As he and his parents sat listening to the clear voice of this little girl who was so ill just a few months before his mother leaned over and whispered to him, “It is a miracle.” Fred knew that it was, a fact he still reminds himself of now ten years later every time he sees his sister-in-law.
