Week Nine(Dec. 22 - Dec. 28) Topic: Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Holidays
Winner:Adrienne
Christmas Spirit
By Adrienne
Amy crawled out of bed, slipping out of the warm embrace the blankets gave her. Her feet landed in the slippers she had laid out, and she padded out of her room. The house was lit with a white glow from the full moon outside. She reached the stair case that led down to the living room. Carefully, she took each step, not to wake anyone up. Once on the bottom floor, she hurried into the next room. This room was illuminated with a different glow – a glow with many colors. For standing in the middle of the room, was a tree lit with the sparkles of every color of the rainbow. Candy canes and popcorn strings hung and wrapped around it. Amy stepped closer. Her tiny eyes lifted to the top, gazing mesmerized at the glimmering golden star above. She scanned down the tree, until she was at the very bottom. Eagerly she rushed forward, sliding down close on her knees, brambles poking at her rosy cheeks. She took hold of one of the presents spread out in front of her. Her small hand smoothed out the label. With a beating heart, she read her name.
To: Amy
From: Santa
The words, written in a scrawl, seemed to glow along with the tree. They were magical words, full of meaning. The little five-year old knelt down, hugging the present, giving it a little shake. She couldn’t wait for dawn to approach and grant her permission to unwrap it.
When it finally did, she was the first one to wake. At first, today was a normal day. Until she realized what day it was. Her bed covers were thrown to the side as she yelled. Still in her sagging pajamas, Amy ran to the tree. It had remained there, still as a statue, exactly like the night before. She could hear the muffled conversations of her parents upstairs, but they didn’t matter anymore. It was just her, the tree, and the presents. With excitement she reached out and grabbed a wrapped preset, bringing it towards her. She read the magical words again: “To: Amy, From: Santa.”
Now her parents joined her, watching her with pride. Amy looked over the present, until she found the tape. She ripped it off, tearing the wrapping paper with delight. With every tear she found herself squealing. It hadn’t really mattered that the present was just a bunch of clothes from Cole’s. It mattered that she had gotten something. That Santa Claus, with his sooty but velvety coat, had climbed down her chimney, and placed this present under the tree.
She leaned back, watching as her parents unwrapped their presents. One present was fine with her – her family was poor. Her parents smiled, hugged, and turned back to Amy. Her mother gave a knowing smile to her husband, and pulled out a little present from behind her back. Amy slid off the couch and took it from her.
“Thank you!” she whispered. The present was perfect: a square wrapped with rose petals. She gazed at it, smiling. This time Amy rushed. She didn’t savor the sound of ripping. Her fingernails scratched glass, and she paused, then ripped even harder. It was a music box with a snow globe on top of the stand, the shape of a baseball. Inside the glass ball, Joseph and Mary stood, with Joseph’s arm wrapped around Mary’s shoulder. They stared down at a little baby cuddled in hay. He was sleeping, in a white blanket. Jesus.
“Baby Jesus!” she cried, peering at him over his parent’s arms. She felt like the star of Bethlehem watching his pale face. It was all too perfect. Between two skinny fingers, she twisted the knob.
It was a beautiful, magical sound. It came slowly, a little hesitantly. It filled the room with grace, galloping like a silver deer around Amy and her parents. Then it flew up and changed into the shining star of Bethlehem. Amy felt herself looking up in wonder.
Amy’s father pressed a hand on her knee, smiling another knowing smile. “Merry Christmas,” he told her, then stood up. “What’s for breakfast?”
For them, it was just another year. It was just another day. It was just another time to wake up at midnight and throw the presents under the tree. But to Amy it was different. It was special. It was magical. It was Baby Jesus’ birthday.
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