The Christmas Chase

Like many of you, my family has some unique holiday traditions.  My favorite is probably the annual feast of homemade pizza while we watch "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" and sip Coca-Cola from the mini glass bottles.

The runner-up has a little more meaning for me personally, but especially this year.

My mother-in-Law Evelyn Overholts passed away on November 30th of this year, just 24 days short of her 54th birthday.   She'd fought a fierce three year battle with leukemia.  As you could expect, this Christmas season has seen a bevy of emotions for my family and extended family and my runner-up tradition is an example of that.

Five years ago, I started writing a short story that I read to my family on Christmas Eve.  This year's is called "The Christmas Chase" and it is dedicated to Evelyn.

The three McMurray children liked Christmas a bunch,

Even more than their father liked Pizza for lunch.

So on Christmas Eve when they lay down to sleep,

They couldn’t get rest.

Not even a peep.

They tossed and they turned, pondering all the morning would bring.

A ninja turtle for Jase?  For Kelsey and Kaelin some bling?

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes to hours,

And yet the anticipation never loss power.

“I wonder what we’ll get,” Kaelin said with a smile.

Kelsey rolled over in bed. “I’ve been wondering that for a while.

I hope we get Kings Island passes and Jase gets a rubber serpent.”

“I don’t care about that,” Kaelin said.  “I want a servant.

Someone to clean our room and put away our clothes.”

“Don’t be silly, Kaelin,” Kelsey turned up her nose.

“Slavery is bad and Mom and Dad can’t afford a Butler or maid.

And I’m pretty sure,” she added, “that’s why they had Jase.”

“But Jase doesn’t ever clean,” Kaelin snarkly replied. 

“He only gets into things and slobbers and cries.”

“Don’t forget,” Kelsey interjected, “that he uses Barbie as a hammer.”

She was going to add more but from the roof came a clamor. 

Kaelin sat up so quickly.  “Did you hear that noise?  It sounded like bells.”

“Could it be?” Kelsey’s eyes widened.  “Santa and his elves?”

Kelsey and Kaelin leaped out of bed and tiptoed down the hall.

They came to the edge of the living room and couldn’t believe what they saw.

“It’s him,” Kaelin whispered.  “Right there in the red.”

Kelsey pressed a finger to her lips.  “Shhhh.  We’re supposed to be in bed.”

From that point on, the two little girls barely even breathed.

They were so enamored they didn’t notice the pitter patter of little feet.

It wasn’t an elf or a blonde hairy dog. 

It wasn’t a hungry dad or even their mom.

Jase slipped right by them and headed for Santa’s bag.

“No! No! No!” the girls said with a gasp. 

“Stay away from there, Jase!” the little girls blared.

But Jase didn’t hear or Jase didn’t care. 

He just hurried on over with his ornery grin.

Opened the bag and climbed right in.

Santa, listening to his IPOD, didn’t even notice.

The glass of milk and plate of cookies were his only focus.

 He drank and ate them real fast,

Hurled his bag over his shoulder then was out in a flash. 

Kelsey and Kaelin went white as they turned toward each other,

“What do we do?” Kaelin asked.  “Wake up father and mother?”

“No,” Kelsey said. “They will be mad and we won’t get any gifts.

We gotta go get him and we gotta be swift.”

They slipped on their boots and coats then rushed outside,

And through the swirling snow, they searched the sky.

“There!” Kaelin pointed, “On Hudson and Savannah’s roof!

There’s a sleigh with eight reindeer licking their hoofs.”

They had to get up there but there was no way to climb.

Then Kelsey thought of an idea in the St. Nick of time.

“In their yard, under the fresh fallen snow!

We jump together on the trampoline and up we will go.”

They raced to the trampoline then bounced in the air,

And landed on the roof with little time to spare.

As the McMurray girls climbed in the sleigh,

Santa wailed his commands and the reindeer obeyed.

With a kick of their legs, they took off in flight.

Kelsey and Kaelin held on to each other as they sped through the night.

In a blink of an eye, in no time at all,

They landed on the roof of Aunt Jessica and Uncle Paul’s.

“I know this place,” Kelsey said, “But why are we here?”

“To borrow a sander?” Kaelin said.  “Or fix one of the deer?”

“No Kaelin, that’s not what I mean. 

This isn’t our street.  This isn't our scene."

"Don't worry about that now," Kaelin said as she stood.

"We gotta find Jase or we'll lose him for good."

Kelsey nodded in agreement then opened Santa's bag.

Kaelin climbed in first and Kelsey followed without lag.

There was a mountain of presents so wide and so tall.

They tumbled half way down before their momentum did stall.

Kelsey picked herself up.  "Now I'll find Jase and you go get Santa's attention.

"But try not to surprise him, because he probably suffers from hypertension."

Kaelin shrugged because she had no idea what that meant,

But toward the top of the mountain of presents she made her accent.

When she poked her head out of the bag she couldn't believe what she witnessed.

Daphne and Dahlia were up to their knees in all kinds of mischief.

Paper and toys were spread all over the room.

The glass of milk was knocked over and the tree was awaiting its doom. 

But with a twirl of his fingers, Santa cleaned up the mess,

Patted the little girls on the head and sent them to bed.

His IPOD still blaring, Santa reached for the bag.

Kaelin ducked back inside and went limp like a rag.

A few seconds later the bag was back in the sleigh.

Santa’s gave his commands and the sleigh pulled away.

In the time it takes for a snowflake to melt in the palm of your hand,

The sleigh was slowing and the reindeer were preparing to land.

“Where are we now?” Kaelin asked, as the mountain shook under foot.

The bag opened a bit and two hands appeared covered in soot.

As presents flew passed her, Kaelin caught a few names.

“Christopher! Carlee! Calem and Cayla!” she exclaimed.

“Kelsey come here!  I know where we are!”

Kelsey climbed up to the top where the bag was ajar.

Her mouth fell open when she spotted the Mason kids asleep under the tree.

"We were at Daphne's and Dahlia's but now we’re at Chris and Carlee's?

 This doesn't make sense, we're all over the map.

I think Santa had too much eggnog and is in need of a nap."

Santa finished his duties and was back in a hurry,

And the sisters resumed their search for Jase William McMurray.

As the sleigh coursed through the night, the girls called out his name,

"Come out now, Jase," they demanded, "This isn't a game!"

But Jase made no sounds and was nowhere in sight,

Though they searched all the presents with a Barbie flashlight,

They couldn't find him, couldn't find him at all.

The mountain was tall and he was so small.

Then from outside of the bag they heard a giggle,

They poked their heads out and solved the Jase riddle.

Their little brother, it appeared was working for St. Nick.

Santa gave Jase some unwrapped presents and he ran off right quick.

Jase darted up the stairs where four little girls slumbered,

A present for each one in the appropriate number.

“A book for Clara,” Kaelin stated, “And my little pony for Lucy,”

“A dragon for Tali and for Ellie a little La La Loopsy.”

“They will love their presents,” Kelsey added, “And I’m glad Jase is safe.”

“But that still doesn’t explain why we’re here at this place.”

“I know it’s confusing,” Kaelin said, “but hasn’t it been fun?

And I’m sure Santa will return to our house when the gift giving's done.”

Kelsey nodded in agreement and they hid once again.

Jase climbed in next to Santa and the sleigh began to ascend. 

It zipped through the night and girls went along for the ride.

While St. Nick jammed to his music with his honorary elf at his side.

As swift as the wind blows, the familial pattern continued,

They made stops at Aden, Liam’s, Gloria’s and Isaiah’s venues.

They visited Laeven’s, Peggy’s and Aunt Kayla’s too.

Before stopping at Grandma Sheri’s and Papaw Don's for a quick rendezvous.

As many will tell you, Santa is not known to be tardy,

They even swung by Kentucky to visit Papaw Marty's.

Then Santa gave a command and the sleigh whirled around.

It blazed through the sky then landed without making a sound.

When the girls poked their heads out, they discovered they were not on a roof,

At first they assumed that Santa had goofed,

But when they saw him standing in the snow with a tear in his eye,

As he stared pensively at the little house on Dean Drive,

They knew without words that there had been no mistake,

The man in the red shared their heartbreak.

St. Nicholas removed his hat and earbuds then lowered his chin,

“Though you’ve said goodbye,” he said, “her story didn’t end.

I know you’ve been wondering why I took you this way.

I didn’t have too much eggnog and the GPS works just fine on the sleigh.

I wanted you to see that the most important things won’t be found under a tree,

They are the people you love, your friends and family. 

Your Grandma Lou Lou loved you so so much,

And her memory can be found in your mother's touch.

When she holds you after a bad dream,

Or when she cleans up and bandages your scraped knees.

Those are lessons she learned that she will pass on to you,

And one day you will pass them on to your children, too.

Now, we have one more present to deliver,

There's a grandpa in there, in need of three little givers.”

Without any instructions, the McMurray children knew what to do.

They climbed out of the sleigh, and across the front lawn they flew,

Inside the house they gave their grandpa warms hugs,

And successfully chased away the remaining bah humbug. 

Then they returned to the sleigh, prayed then departed,

And in a blink of an eye, they were back where they started,

Snuggled up together so warm in their beds,

As memories of  the most important things replayed in their heads. 

Halloween Haiku Quiz

Because I was bored and laid up from a minor surgery, I decided to have a little literary fun and create a Halloween Haiku quiz.  How well can you identify some of these Halloween and Horror classics from a 17 syllable poem? 

A block head gets rock

Best friend waits for Santa Squash

Lack of parenting

A fat lazy cat

And his loyal companion

Flee from pirate ghosts

Brother celebrates

By stabbing older sister

And younger sister

Frankenstein’s Monster

Befriends a cute little girl

And Wolf-Man’s got nards!

Three sister witches

A virgin lights a candle

 Spell Casting ensues

Local Idiot

Summons child stealing troll

Mom’s Love and Miak

Diverse relatives

Creepy romance and hump day

A catchy theme song

Three spooky uncles

And their precocious nephew

Unfinished business

Small business owners

The flowers are still standing

One angry sailor

Confused Mama’s boy

A beautiful fugitive

One bloody shower

Winter getaway

A bad case of writer’s block

Here’s Johnny Ice Pop

Scrolls for answers

How well did you do?  Let me know in the comments and please share with others!

Heroes of Literature Part One: Wilson Rawls...and his wife?

I have a confession to make. I cry during movies…and while reading…and sometimes during songs. I wept like a baby when Little Foot’s mom passed in The Land before Time and again when Bubba died in Forrest Gump’s arms. I baptized the final chapters of The Fault in our Stars with way too many 30-year-old man tears and just a few days ago my eyes glistened while listening to one of my wife’s romance novels as we drove back to Ohio after a family vacation (Damn you, Nicholas Sparks!)

               

I am emotional man from a long line of emotional men and when moved just right, I become a blubbering idiot.  I simply can’t help it, it’s who I am.

 I knew nothing of this penchant for waterworks until fifth grade when I felt warm tears streak down my cheeks as my teacher, Mrs. Jones, read the climactic chapter in what she said was her favorite novel.  It’s one thing to sob in a darkened movie theater or shed a tear while reading by flashlight in one’s bedroom, it’s another thing entirely to cry while sitting on the reading rug with your classmates.  So, even though I wasn’t the only one, I remember my embarrassment vividly. 

Full Disclosure:  I'm not a Pokemon 

Who’s responsible for making fifth grade me cry?  Who’s to blame for my embarrassment?

Mrs. Jones? The Fifth Grade Curriculum?  My over-sensitivity?  (Definitely not that last one)

The answer:   Wilson Rawls…and his wife.

Don't be fooled by their 1950's neighborly looks, these two are trouble.

Wilson Rawls may not be a household name in the literary world like Stephen King or J.K. Rowling but there is a good chance you’ve read one of his books, most likely the one about a boy, his two hounds, and a certain scarlet fern.

If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m referring to the beloved children’s novel Where the Red Fern Grows.

If you’ve read the book you probably understand why fifth grade me christened the reading rug with his tears.  What you may not know, however, is that Mr. Rawls’s most famous work would have been lost to ashes had it not been for his wife.

From a young age, and despite little formal education, Woodrow Wilson Rawls dreamed of writing a book like his childhood hero Jack London.  While bouncing around from job to job during the Great Depression, Wilson spent his free time scratching out manuscripts on any scrap of paper he could find, including old grocery bags. 

Back in my day, we used them as book covers...

 In total he wrote five manuscripts, but due to the poor spelling and complete lack of punctuation, he was too embarrassed to let anyone see them and for years considered himself a failure.   Stifling his career before it began.

But there was a flicker of hope and her name was Sophie Ann Styczinski.

 Sophie was a budget analyst in Idaho.  She and Wilson met while working for the Atomic Energy Commission and after falling in love planned a wedding for August of 1958.  Though Wilson loved his fiancé dearly, he still considered himself a failure and set his mind to finally killing his dream of being an author before Sophie could ever discover it.  So, two weeks before the wedding he burned all of his manuscripts and short stories.

But like a good horror movie monster, some dreams just refuse to die.

Jaime, your really pale boyfriend is awake

 A few months after the wedding, Mr. Rawls finally revealed his dream to his wife and confessed to burning all the manuscripts. To Wilson’s surprise, Sophie encouraged him to write again and after quitting his job, Wilson scrawled out the first draft of what would eventually become Where the Red Fern Grows.  Sophie then edited the draft, typed it up and submitted it for publishing. 

The novel was first serialized in the Saturday Evening Post before being traditionally published by Double Day.  Still, it would be another six years before librarians and teachers discovered the novel and turned it into the hit it remains today.  Through all that time, Sophie’s faith in and support for her husband never faltered.

In the words of the author himself, “She bought the groceries, paid the rent and growled at neighbors who gossiped about her lazy husband.”

Wilson Rawls would go on to author another book and share his story and passion for writing as a public speaker, but he never forgot or failed to mention the great role his beloved wife played in making his dream of making fifth graders cry a reality.

I kid. I kid.  I don’t really hold a bitter grudge against Wilson and Sophie for making fifth grade me cry and I’m not ashamed anymore.  Where the Red Fern Grows is a damn good book and the way I see it, Wilson and Sophie earned those tears.  But the lesson I learned from the life of Wilson and Sophie Rawls isn’t about tears or even red ferns, it’s about love. 

In my opinion, the qualities that make an author special (passion, creativity, voice) come from the soul but as Wilson and Sophie Rawls proved, it doesn’t hurt to have a soulmate to help along the way.

sources: 

http://www.trelease-on-reading.com/rawls.html

http://www.eduplace.com/kids/hmr/mtai/rawls.html

The Perfect Gift

                In a tiny house in Ohio lived three small children.   Kelsey, Kaelin and their little brother Jase.  

                It was their favorite time of year and a fresh fallen snow coated the ground.  The two older children, Kelsey and Kaelin, slipped into their snow suits and boots and rushed outside, while their little brother watched from the window.

                Having trampled through the fluffy flakes, Kelsey, the oldest sister, fell down onto her back and proceeded to make a snow angel.  Kaelin, who was working diligently to make a whole snowman family, suddenly stopped what she was doing.

                “Kelsey!” she cried.  “Do you know what today is?”

                Kelsey paused mid angel and climbed to her feet.  “It’s Christmas Eve, duh.”

                “That means tomorrow’s Christmas!” Kaelin said, “Which means…”

                The two girls turned to each other and howled in unison, “Presents!”

                They linked hands and danced in jubilation as thoughts of barbies, tablets and candy filled their heads. 

                “I wonder what Santa will bring us,” Kelsey pondered.

                “Hopefully some beanie boos or a new glow pet,” Kaelin mused.  “I have been really good this year, I only got in trouble…” she paused and began to count on her fingers.  When the number exceeded the amount of available fingers, she shrugged and said, “Like I said.  I’ve been good this year.”

                “Yeah,” Kelsey agreed.  “We did clean up our room that one time.”

                “That should be enough to get us some really cool stuff,” Kaelin added.

                With the excitement of the coming morning hanging in the air like a titillating fog, the two sisters returned to their play.  Kelsey finished her snow angel and then went to work making snowballs to hurl at her unsuspecting father whenever he came outside.  Kaelin completed the mother snowman, having topped her off with one of her mom’s old scarves and then started on the father.

                “Kaelin,” Kelsey said as she placed another handful of snow into the snowball maker, “What did you get Mom and Dad?”

                “Hmmm…” Kaelin stopped rolling what was destined to become the torso of the father snowman and touched her chin.  “I don’t think I got them anything this year.”

                “Me neither,” Kelsey said.  “I forgot.”

                Kaelin frowned.  “That’s not good, is it?”

                “Nope, but the good news is that it’s only Christmas Eve.  Which means we still have some time.” 

                Kaelin took a seat on the snowball she’d been rolling.  “Do you have any ideas of what to get them?”

 

                Kelsey stood silent for a couple seconds then asked, “Kaelin, do you have any money?”

                “No,” Kaelin replied.  “I don’t even have a job.”

                Kelsey gestured for Kaelin to scoot over and make room on the snow ball.  Kaelin did so and the two sat next to each other in silence as they search their minds for ideas.  Soon they heard the sound of a garage door opening.  They both whirled around to see their friends Hudson and Savannah come bounding out of their garage across the street.

 

                Kelsey pointed.  “Let’s ask them, they’ll be able to help.”

                After asking for permission and checking in both directions, the two sisters hurried across the street.  Their friends, Hudson and Savannah, were in the midst of a sibling snowball fight with chunks of ice and snow being hurled from one end of the lawn to the other. 

                Hudson, the top of his orange and black Bengals hat poking out from behind his father’s Chevy truck, waved his arm.  “Kelsey, over here!”

                Kelsey ran to him and leaped behind the truck. 

                Savannah launched a snowball in her brother’s direction then called to Kaelin, “Come here and help me, Kaelin.”

                Kaelin darted over to the tree that Savannah was using as cover.  Savannah handed her a fresh snowball and Kaelin flung it toward her sister.  Kelsey dodged then tossed one back.  Hudson joined in on the barrage.  Savannah and Kelsey dropped to the ground and covered their heads, laughing as snowballs landed like tiny meteors on the ground around them.   

                The battle raged on until all gloves were thoroughly soaked and the Chevy truck was covered in snow.  With no clear winner, a truce was agreed upon by both parties. 

                “Do you want to go inside and play Minecraft?” Hudson asked as he rubbed his hands together for warmth.

                “Sure---“ Kelsey started to say before she remembered the reason they’d come across the street in the first place.  She sighed.  “I would like to but there is something me and Kaelin have to do.”

                “What?” Savannah asked.

                “We have to get a gift for our parents,” Kelsey replied.

                Savanna showed her palms dramatically.  “Tomorrow’s Christmas and you haven’t got a gift for your parents yet?”

                Kelsey frowned.  “We forgot.”

                “Bummer,” Hudson said. “What are you going to do?”

                “We don’t know,” Kaelin said.

                “We were hoping that you could give us some ideas,” Kelsey added.

                There was a lull in the conversation as the four kids pondered the present possibilities.

                “Parents love money,” Savannah said, breaking the silence.  “How about a million dollars?”

                “How much does that cost?” Kaelin asked.  “Because I only got a nickel and I took that from Kelsey.”

                Kelsey and Hudson exchanged glances then shook their heads.  

   

                “That won’t due, Savannah,” Hudson said.  “They need something they can get today.”

                Savannah shrugged.  “I tried.”

                Hudson turned back to Kelsey and Kaelin.  “Have you tried asking your grandparents?  Ours helped me and Savannah pick out our presents for our mom and dad.”

                “That’s a good idea,” Kelsey said.  “They’ll know what to do.”  She grabbed her sister by the hand. “Come on Kaelin.”

                After a wave goodbye the two were off, sprinting home as fast as their little legs would carry them.  Once inside, they slipped out of their boots, stripped off their snow suits and went looking for their Mom.

                Their dad, who had been outside shoveling the driveway while they played with their friends, followed them inside.

                “Is everything alright?” he asked.  “You came inside in a hurry.”

                “No!” Kaelin blurted out.  “We forgot to---

                Kelsey nudged Kaelin with her elbow, who stopped and glared at her sister.

                “Forgot to do what?” their father asked.

                Kaelin paused.  “Forgot to…”

                Their dad raised an eyebrow.  “What Kaelin?”

                “Forgot to get milk and cookies ready for Santa,” Kelsey said, coming to her sister’s rescue.

                “Oh,” their dad smiled.  “We don’t want to forget that.  I know Santa loves your cookies.  In fact, he adds a few inches around his waist every year because of those cookies.”  He paused.  “Or maybe it’s because he has a tendency to overeat Mrs. Claus’s delicious cooking.”

                The two girls just stared at him curiously.

                Their father waved a hand.  “Nevermind about that,” he said.  “And don’t you worry there’s still plenty of time to get the milk and cookies ready.”

                With those words, he patted them each on the top of the head and then disappeared into the kitchen. 

                When he was gone, Kaelin spun toward her sister.  “You didn’t have to hit me!”

                Kelsey pressed a finger to her lips. “Shoosh.  You almost spilled the beans.”

                Kaelin flashed a look of confusion.  “What beans?”

                Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Nevermind.”  She placed both hands on her sister’s shoulders and after a glance around to ensure that no one was in hearing distance, whispered, “Now.  We need to get a hold of mom’s phone so we can call Grandma Lou Lou and Grandma Sheri.”

                “We’re going to steal Mommy’s phone?”

                “No,” Kelsey said.  “We’re just going to borrow it.”  She gestured for Kaelin to follow.  “Now come on.”

                The two tip-toed across the room and down the hallway, peeking their heads in every room until they found their Mother in the nursery sitting in the glider with their baby brother, Jase, cradled in her arms.

                “I think she’s asleep,” Kaelin said.

                “Now’s our chance,” Kelsey added.

                Their mother’s phone sat on the arm of the glider, just inches from the edge.   

                Kelsey looked at Kaelin. “Wait here,” she whispered.  “I’m going to go get it.”

                Kaelin nodded then brought her knuckles to her face to suppress a giggle. 

                Kelsey pulled in a deep breath then crept forward.  As silent as a mouse, she snatched the phone and scurried out of the room.    With the phone in hand, the two sisters rushed to their bedroom and quietly shut the door behind them.

                “Do you even know how to work that thing?” Kaelin asked.

                “I think so.”

                Kelsey unlocked the phone with a swipe of her finger then went to work pressing apps. When they failed to get the desired response, Kaelin ripped the phone from her sister’s hand.

                “Let me try.”

                In a less controlled fashion, Kaelin took her turn trying to contact their grandparents.  After a few seconds, her eyes widened.  “Kelsey look!” she held out the phone.  “It’s Mommy’s book face.”

                “It’s called Face Book and that isn’t going to help.” Kelsey reached for the phone.  “Now give it to me.”

                Kaelin tightened her grip and the two entered into a round of tug-of-war, grunting and growling at each other like they were two wolf pups fighting over a piece of meat.  Finally, Kelsey’s two more years prevailed and she fell backward into a seated position with the phone wedged tightly in her hands.  Kaelin dropped to the floor, crossed her arms and adopted a pouty face.

                Kelsey, flustered more with their failure to find a present for their parents, sighed, “We’re never going to get a gift in time.”

                Near the point of giving up hope, Kelsey opened up her fingers to look at the phone.  When she did, she saw a series of pictures with names and numbers attached to each one.  “Kaelin!” she said, jumping to her feet.  “I think we figured it out!”

                Kaelin scrambled to her feet as well then watched her sister scroll thru the pictures until they came to their Grandma Lou Lou. 

                Kailin pointed at the phone.  “Press the picture.”

                Kelsey poked the screen with her index finger and within seconds the phone began to ring.  The two girls exchanged celebratory grins. 

                On the third ring, their Grandma Lou Lou answered, “Hello.”

                “Grandma!” the kids shouted in unison.

                “Well hello there, Kelsey and Kae Kae.”

                “We need your help,” Kaelin said. 

                “We forgot to get Mom and Dad a present,” Kelsey added.  “What should we do?”

                “Let’s see here,” Grandma Lou Lou replied, “You could make them a present.”

                “Any ideas?” Kelsey asked.

                “Hmmm….” There was a few seconds of quiet, before Grandma Lou Lou said, “When your Mommy was little, I always like it when she made something that really surprised me.”

                “So we should make something that Mom and Dad won’t expect.”  Kelsey said.

                “Yep.”

                “Thanks Grandma!”  Kaelin said. 

                They talked for a minute more and then hung up with a Merry Christmas. 

                “Now we try Grandma Sheri,” Kelsey said.

                She scrolled down on the screen until she found the picture of Grandma Sheri.  She clicked on it and a few seconds later Grandma Sheri was on the line.

                “It’s Kelsey and Kaelin,” Kaelin shouted as soon as Grandma Sheri answered.

                “Hey girls,” she said.  “Are you ready for Santa to come?”

                “No,” Kelsey said. 

                “No?  Why not?”

                “We forgot to get Mommy and Daddy a present this year,” Kaelin said. 

                “Oh,” Grandma Sheri observed.  “Well, you can make them something.”

                “That’s what Grandma Lou Lou said,” Kaelin stated.

                Grandma Sheri chuckled, “Well good Grandmas think alike.”

                “Any ideas of what we can make them?” Kelsey asked.

                “Let me think for a moment,” Grandma replied.  “Both of your parents love the holiday season.  Why don’t you try to make something that shows the true meaning of Christmas?”

                “The true meaning of Christmas…”Kelsey repeated.

                “You got it,” Grandma Sheri said.

Suddenly, there was a voice in the background.  “Got to go, girls,” Grandma said, “Your Papaw Don is yelling about those Republicans again.”

“Bye Grandma!”

“Merry Christmas girls.”

                 They hung up and then quietly returned the phone to their still napping Mom.  This time placing it on the floor next to the glider.

                After a few minutes of pacing up and down the hallway as they brainstormed together, the two plopped down on the couch in the living room, tired and fearing that they’d ruined Christmas.

                “We need something surprising,” Kaelin said.

                “And something that shows the true meaning of Christmas,” Kelsey added.

                The girls sighed in unison, leaned forward and using their knees to brace themselves, cupped their chins with their hands. 

                After a few minutes, Kelsey’s gaze fell upon the Nativity Scene that sat high atop the DVD stand.

Her eyes widened and she sat up with a jolt.  “Kaelin, I have an idea for the gift!”

“You do?”

“Yes,” Kelsey cautioned. “But it’s going to take you, me and someone else.”

“Who?”

Kelsey leaned forward and whispered the answer in her sister’s ear. 

Kaelin’s lips curled into a wide smile.  “Perfect.”

Many hours later, after Christmas Eve turned to Christmas day and Santa had completed his traditional gift giving act, Kelsey’s Mom and Dad were awoken by the shouts of their two older children.

“Mom! Dad!  Wake up! Wake up!  Christmas is here!”

Their parents sat up in bed, rubbing their eyes. 

“Give us a minute,” they’re dad said.

It actually took two minutes and thirty-seven seconds for Kelsey and Kaelin’s parents to get themselves out of bed and when they did, they discovered a note taped to the inside of their door. 

They’re mom read the note aloud,

                Mom and Dad,

                We wanted to surprise you with something that showed you the true meaning of Christmas. 

                Love,

                Kelsey and Kaelin

                “I’m impressed, “their dad said after their mom finished reading the note, “Their handwriting is better than mine.”

                Their mom took their dad by the hand.  “Come on, let’s see what they got us.”

                As they reached the end of the hallway and stepped into the living room, Kelsey and Kaelin yelled, “Surprise!”

                Their mom’s mouth fell open and their dad’s eyes widened with genuine surprise at the sight what awaited them.

                Standing in the glistening white lights of the Christmas tree and under the watchful star was a tabernacle made of Disney Princess blankets, bed sheets and kitchen chairs.  Filling the inside of the tent was a herd of stuffed animals of all sorts and sizes and in their midst, directly under the star of the Christmas tree, was their blue eyed baby boy, peering up at them from his bouncer.  To each side were his older sisters, dressed in white, their heads adorned with homemade halos crafted from silver garland.

                “Jase is like the baby Jesus, Mommy,” Kaelin said. “And we’re the angels.”

                Their dad looked around in amazement.  “Did you plan all this yourself?” he asked.

                “We had some help from some family and friends,” Kelsey replied.

                Kaelin bit her bottom lip.  “So…Do you like it?” she asked nervously.

                Neither of their parents answered right away.  Instead their mom knelt down beside them, opened her arms and gestured for them to come to her.  They did and she wrapped her arms around them and squeezed. 

“Yes,” she said with a smile.  “I love it.”

Their father gently lifted baby Jase from the bouncer and the two of them joined in the embrace.

“Do you like it Dad?” Kelsey asked.

“Yes,” he replied, squeezing his family tight.  “It’s the perfect gift.”   

Kelsey and Kaelin grinned at each other and behind their parents backs, bumped fists. 

                                                             THE END

The Prisoner

A rooster crows.

The pale moon light pries its way through the iron bars of his cell and falls upon the stone floor with a whisper of dawn, giving the dull stone a marble glow.  Outside his cell is the harmony of bronze keys rattling together to the rhythm of leather sandal footfalls.  The melody grows louder. The guard moves closer.

It’s been days since the prisoner has talked to another person and he is worried about his wife and friends.   Visitors have been forbidden to enter and many of his friends would be wise to stay away considering all that has taken place.  The current stint isn’t his first incarceration, he’s been behind bars or in chains, on more occasions than he can count on his fingers.  But in all honesty, he didn't foresee chains and bars to be a part of his lord's kingdom when he was called to become a fisher of men.

 Despite his experiences, the current stint is by far the loneliest with the hours of silence passing by like a long gray winter.  He has prayed and sang hymns to assuage the sting of his solitary confinement but he is nearly out of words.  He hopes that it will end soon, or that the guard will stop and offer enough distraction to drown out the obnoxious crowing of the rooster.  

The orange glow of a torch peeks beneath his cell door.  The prisoner lifts his head off the balled up cloak he uses as a pillow.  A small prayer is answered, the rattling of the keys and the rhythmic footfalls cease abruptly, replaced with the scrape of metal against metal, the unlatching of a lock.  The door opens with an aged groan and the torch light floods the cell.  The prisoner can feel the warmth.   He pushes himself off the floor and rubs his eyes, beckoning them to adjust to the welcomed sight of light.  When they do, he sees the soldier standing in the doorway, a giant hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if to say, "I bare this weapon for a reason."

Though the prisoner has longed for this moment, he is suddenly without words.  The soldier, with his large brown eyes and curly black beard, shares a striking resemblance to his younger self.  A resemblance that can’t be tossed aside as mere coincidence.  The two study each other as if trying to discern a hidden truth between them.

“You come to give me good news,” the prisoner says eventually.

“Just news,” the soldier responds, as he hangs the lantern on a hook halfway up the wall.

“Well?” the prisoner asks.

The soldier pulls out a wooden stool from behind the door and takes a seat.   “Do you know what today is?”

“Days and nights have a way of blending together in here,” the prisoner says, “but I suppose by your presence that my release is at hand.”

“I’m afraid to say you are not being released.” He pauses, then says gravely, “Caesar has rendered his judgment.  You are to be executed.”

The prisoner nods to himself as his gaze falls upon the flickering shadows dancing on the wall beside him. 

“Have you no words?” the soldier asks.  “I’ve heard you Christians never stop talking.”

“Words and I haven’t always got along.”  The prisoner lifts his eyes and smiles a bit.  “You could say that I have a way of putting my foot in my mouth.” 

The soldier leans back on his stool, surprised by the old man’s response.  “You jest.  Are you not afraid?”

“Afraid?” he responds.  “I’m terrified.  But my fear cannot change what is to come.”

“And what is to come?”

“My release.”

“You are confused old man, you are not being released.  You are being put to death.”

“I know and death is just the beginning,”

“I’ve seen death, old man, it isn’t pleasant.”

“And I’ve seen life and it is beyond words.”

The soldier is silent for a moment.  He narrows his eyes.  “This life you speak of, is it part of your silly superstition?”

“My silly superstition?” the prisoner repeats to himself.  "You mean the Gospel of the Christ."

The soldier rolls his eyes. "Yes, the gospel of the Christ."

"The Gospel is about life," the prisoner says. 

"You say that, yet, all I see of Christ's followers is death.  I served in Palestine, there is a trail of blood from there to here.  Even today, more will be fed to the lions or crucified."

"They do not die in vain, for their deaths will bring life to others."

"That is an admirable philosophy, but what is a philosophy when facing the sword?"

The soldier's words conjure up the prisoner’s most painful memory.   He falls silent racked with regret.

The rooster crows again.

The soldier shifts his weight from one side of the stool to the other.  "Some will renounce your Christ," the soldier states.

"Some have already," the prisoner replies, solemnly. 

"And what of you?  What will you do when the time comes?  Will you deny your savior as well?"

Fear, like the darkening of clouds from an approaching gale, creeps into his heart.  The prisoner pulls in a breath to calm himself and exhales.   "I will face what the Lord has prepared for me."

The soldier leans forward. "You will die for a lie?"

"No," the prisoner says, shaking his head.  "I will die for the truth."

The soldier laughs, "That's right, the truth."

When the soldier's laughter eases to a stop, the prisoner asks, "Did you come in here just to mock me?"

"No," the soldier reaches behind his back and retrieves a bundle of cloth.  "I came to give this to you."

The soldier tosses the bundle to the prisoner, who makes a feeble attempt to catch it.  The bundle escapes his grasp and drops to the stone floor, spilling its contents.  The prisoner reaches between his legs and peels a piece of unleavened bread from the stone. "Where did you get this?" he asks.

"Your companions begged me to give it to you."

The prisoner furrows his brow. "And you agreed?"

"Yes." The soldier is slightly offended. "Because I have pity for you.  For you will die believing a man rose from the dead."

"I will die for what I witnessed," the old man responds.

"Well if that is the case," the soldier says, "forgive me for being skeptical, it is not every day that a man returns from Hades."

The old man raises an eyebrow.  "It is not every day that a soldier violates his command and sneaks in bread for a prisoner."

The prisoner’s statement quiets the soldier.  He folds his hands together introspectively.

"Soldier, what is your name?" the prisoner asks.

"My name is Felix."

"Felix…” The prisoner pauses, as if to gather the right words.  "As a soldier in Caesar's army, I'm sure you have at least a few regrets.  What if you had the opportunity to make them right again, would you do it?"

"Of course," Felix says matter-of-factly.

"What is about to come," the prisoner says, "is another chance to wash away my regrets.  To make them right again.  My silly superstition, as you called it, is a second chance."   

 The cell lapses into silence, one that is heavy with the anguish that awaits the old man.  The soldier no longer pities him, like the ache in his bones, the prisoner can feel it.  The old man takes the unleavened bread and breaks it in two.  With trembling hands, he wipes off the dust from the floor and offers a piece of the bread to the soldier.  Without saying a word, Felix grabs the bread and eats it.

Shortly after, the silence is broken by the sounds of heavy doors opening at the end of a long corridor accompanied by the pounding of footfalls. 

Felix stands.  "It is time."  He offers a hand to the prisoner.  "Let me help you up."

The prisoner takes his hand and the soldier carefully pulls him to his feet.  With great effort, the prisoner stoops to grab his cloak but the soldier stops him. 

"No," he says, "Let me."

Felix grabs the cloak, unfolds it and gently slips it over the prisoner’s shoulders.  The other guards arrive at the door.  One of them is carrying a set of cuffs which he hands to Felix.  Felix looks at prisoner sorrowfully.  The prisoner stretches out his hands and Felix places the cuffs on his wrists.  With Felix holding onto the prisoner’s chain, the guards lead him down the corridor and out of the prison.

Outside, the breaking dawn births a mahogany sky.  Below it, the city awakes.  There is the sound of workman's hammers on crucibles, the bleating of sheep in the market place waiting to be sold and the anxious whispers of those who have gathered to witness the crucifixion.

However, one voice is missing among the morning chorus...

the crowing of the rooster.