that was all I could think to get her. She wasn’t exactly the easiest person to shop for.
I was supposed to be at the orphanage at seven, but the bridge was up near the
MoreheadCity port, and I had to wait until an outbound freighter slowly made its way
down the channel. As a result, I arrived a few minutes late. The front door was already
locked by that time, and I had to pound on it until Mr. Jenkins finally heard me. He fiddled
through his set of keys until he found the right one, and a moment later he opened the
door. I stepped inside, patting my arms to ward off the chill.
“Ah . . . you’re here,” he said happily. “We’ve been waiting for you. C’mon, I’ll take
you to where everyone is.”
He led me down the hall to the rec room, the same place I’d been before. I paused for
just a moment to exhale deeply before finally heading in.
It was even better than I’d imagined.
In the center of the room I saw a giant tree, decorated with tinsel and colored lights
and a hundred different handmade ornaments. Beneath the tree, spread in all directions,
were wrapped gifts of every size and shape. They were piled high, and the children were
on the floor, sitting close together in a large semicircle. They were dressed in their best
clothes, I assumed—the boys wore navy blue slacks and white collared shirts, while the
girls had on navy skirts and long-sleeved blouses. They all looked as if they’d cleaned up
before the big event, and most of the boys had had their hair cut.
On the table beside the door, there was a bowl of punch and platters of cookies,
shaped like Christmas trees and sprinkled with green sugar. I could see some adults sitting
with the children; a few of the smaller kids were sitting on the adults’ laps, their faces rapt
with attention as they listened to “ ’Twas the Night Before Christmas.”
I didn’t see Jamie, though, at least not right off the bat. It was her voice that I
recognized first. She was the one reading the story, and I finally located her. She was
sitting on the floor in front of the tree with her legs bent beneath her.
To my surprise, I saw that tonight her hair hung loosely, just as it had the night of the
play. Instead of the old brown cardigan I’d seen so many times, she was wearing a red V-
neck sweater that somehow accentuated the color of her light blue eyes. Even without
sparkles in her hair or a long white flowing dress, the sight of her was arresting. Without
even noticing it, I’d been holding my breath, and I could see Mr. Jenkins smiling at me out
of the corner of my eye. I exhaled and smiled, trying to regain control.
Jamie paused only once to look up from the story. She noticed me standing in the
doorway, then went back to reading to the children. It took her another minute or so to
finish, and when she did, she stood up and smoothed her skirt, then walked around the
children to make her way toward me. Not knowing where she wanted me to go, I stayed
where I was.
By t hen Mr. Jenkins had slipped away.
“I’m sorry we started without you,” she said when she finally reached me, “but the
kids were just so excited.”