May Christmas Forever Be With You
An
eleven year old boy was peeking through the curtain of his bedroom, looking
down through a dark window.
His face was pale and sad.
He watched the children and adults below across the street in front of
the church. They were busy decorating an old pine tree for Christmas. The sounds of their amusement could
not fill his hollowness.
The boy’s room was dim and frosty; only a beam of light shone
through the open curtain.
Usually, at this time of the year, the boy and
his father would volunteer at church.
They helped the church decorating the pine tree and the boy had fun
choosing the ornaments and handing them to his father. They always had a great time
together.
Behind his back
on the other side of the wall,
his mother was sitting quietly by the side of the bed, gazing the
family picture that she held in her hands. In front of the church there were small groups
rehearsing carols. Their
voices snapped her out of her thoughts and she remembered that her son was
in the next room. She hurried
and ran to his room and knocked.
“Come in,” he said.
The woman with long and wavy hair opened the door and walked to
where her son was standing. As
soon as the boy saw his mother, he burst into tears.
“Mom, why is this happening to us?” the boy said.
“It was an accident,” said the woman. “No one wanted this to happen but
it did. There is nothing you
and I can do to change it. I
would have done anything to stop that incident.”
“I miss dad.” His head rested restlessly on the
woman’s chest.
The woman said, “I know…I know…”
There was a big crowd gathering in front of the
church and many other people passing by beneath the boy’s window, heading
to the church. Their voices
and their laugher broke their silence. The woman and the boy both looked out the window.
They saw familiar faces surrounding the pine tree.
The mother grabbed a Kleenex for her son and bent
lower to her son’s level and smiled at him,
“Let’s say you and I go join the crowd.”
“No mom,” said the boy. “I miss him. I can not stand being without him,”
“I miss him, too. I felt like it was yesterday,
he was still here with us, before your father’s company called,” the woman
said.
The boy said, “He should have listened to you and
not gone to work in a heavy storm.”
The woman said, “But it was your dad’s decision.
He argued that he would be home before mid-night.”
“I remember that he promised me he would come
home and we would unwrap Christmas gifts together,” the boy replied softly,
wiping his eyes. “Everything is not the same without him. Where would he be after he died?”
“He will be up there in heaven and watching over
you.” The woman cried. “Your
father will not be happy if he sees you like this.”
“Yes,” the boy answered.
“I am sure he wants you be happy.” The woman took the boy’s hands and
put them over his heart, “Son, your dad is here with you as always. Close
your eyes and picture his image.
Can you see him yet?”
“Yes, mom…I can see him now.”
“Your dad will always live in your memory. Don’t worry. You will never lose him. We have
his picture and he will forever be with us.”
The boy opened his eyes and smiled at his
mother. The woman asked the
boy again if he wanted to go outside.
The boy remained silent and held his mother’s hand. They walked
downstairs to the front door.
As soon as the boy’s left foot reached the last stair, he let his
let go of his mother’s. The
boy ran to the front door and opened it, ready to go out side turning his
head back
“Thanks
mom. Do you want to join me?”
The woman did not answer. She ran toward her son and left the
cold house behind, both mother and son moving forward.
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