Golden Bells December 2013 | Page 10

Christmas from Scratch

24th of December 1993. On a cold, frosty morning, there was a hopeful, light hearted little boy named Chael who absolutely loved Christmas. He loved the lights, the snow, the presents, the carols; he just adored and cherished Christmas ever since his first experience and his first taste of this joyful time.

A creak from an old, wooden door broke the rhythmic silence, and then slowly opened as the dullness of the room started to fade. There stood Chael wearing a warm-hearted smile with his hand pressed against the door. As he clumsily fitted on his puffy jacket, his frisky dog, Jan, followed him across the hallway shaking his winter coat as white as a moonlit sail.

“Jan are you sure?” queried Chael concerned. “It’s quite chilly outside.” Jan replied with an ecstatic bark as he wagged his tail in excitement. Chael smiled back and politely opened the front door mimicking a stereotypical sir. Jan gleefully ran into the thick sheet of soft, fluffy snow. Chael followed as he frolicked and ran around the snow covered meadow filled with exuberance.

But, his jubilant and jolly aura was snuffed out by overhearing his despondent father. Chael curiously crept up to the frost stained window, trying to get a glimpse of the conversation.

“What?!” said his demurring, bewildered father. “This can’t be happening! Not on Christmas Eve! I could barely stand on two feet and you just throw this at me?! If you could give me another chance I…… fine – have it you way! But I’ll say this Fred, you’ll regret it!”

He slammed the phone down, swelling with frustration. Then rested his head on his hand, his tired face red with stress.

“Darling are you alright?” asked Chael’s mother in a concerned voice. “What does it look like Beth?” his father replied in a rhetorical, sarcastic tone. “I’ve… I’ve been made redundant…”

Not being able to take anymore misery, Chael started running, with a tear stream rolling down his face. Jan followed, his barking stuffed with worry. Chael couldn’t help but uttering a cry as he was being enshrouded by a cloud of grief. He stopped. Jan discontinued. Chael gracelessly fell on his knees crumbling away to hopelessness. Jan walked around Chael trying to cheer him up, stroking his nose on Chael’s arm.

Suddenly it hit him. A tiny spark of inspiration hit him. A spark that could potentially turn things around. He decided, since his parents could not celebrate Christmas because of their current state of emotion and finance, to make the tree, the presents, the decorations; everything else from scratch.

So he did, he collected and chopped down small pine trees, he made his own decorations by using his father’s left over office paper and cardboard, made his own presents by wrapping and boxing his mother’s old jewellery and his father’s old fishing rod; then placed them all in the backyard in a neat fashion.

He ran into the house full of excitement as he tugged on his father’s loose sweater pointing out the window.

“Oh Chael,” said his father; deeply touched by his son’s care, “I love you…”

By Dale Sasis…