Christmas Story
This story was written with only one purpose. To share a kind of Christmas spirit in this hectic before-Christmas time. I wish you all a healthy and wonderful Christmas.
It was Christmas Eve. The twins, Tony and Sierra, had been helping their mom with the final cleaning and preparing for the Christmas Eve dinner since the morning. Their small cottage at the end of the village was adorned with handmade chains of colorful paper, ice crystals, and snowflakes cut out of white paper sheets. In front of the cottage stood a large snowman with a carrot nose, eyes and buttons made of pebbles, a smile crafted from a twig, a hat from a holey pot, and a broom in hand. The children often looked out the window, admiring their creation.
Around noon, Mom placed modest sandwiches with jam on the table, along with cups of milk.
"Wash your hands and eat," she herded the twins to the table and returned to preparing dishes in the kitchen.
The twins were familiar with the tradition. On Christmas Eve, not much was eaten during the day in remembrance of Mary and Joseph's tiring journey. For many adults, the first thing consumed that day was the Christmas wafer, broken before the Christmas Eve dinner. Children were given one or two small meals during the day. Sierra and Tony quickly ate and tidied up after themselves.
A white tablecloth, napkins, and hay lay on one of the chairs. The twins wiped the table and spread most of the hay on it, placing the tablecloth on top. This, too, was a tradition. Jesus was born in a stable and laid on hay covered with his mother's shawl. They placed the remaining hay in the middle of the tablecloth and put the Christmas wafer on it. They arranged four napkins in spaces designated for the family members and an unexpected wanderer—another Christmas tradition they enjoyed.
During their journey, when Mary felt it was time, she and Joseph began searching for a place in the inn. However, they were turned away everywhere, and that's why Jesus was born in a stable. They always left an empty place at the table to ensure such a situation wouldn't befall anyone else for someone seeking shelter during this time.
"And for Dad," Sierra said softly, straightening the napkin at the empty spot. Tony nodded but didn't say anything.
Their dad was a soldier, and four years ago, he died during one of his missions far from home. Since then, their lives had been harder, and filling the void in their hearts seemed impossible.
Sierra pulled a chair up to the shelf and began handing Tony decorative plates, cups, and cutlery. All of them featured holiday motifs and were hand-painted by their grandmother. Tony carefully carried them one by one to the table, fearing that something might slip from his hands and break. When all the tableware was on the table, they brought clean cloths from the kitchen and wiped everything down. The table looked festive. Outside, it was slowly getting dark. Together with the twins, Mom placed a vase of mushroom soup, a bowl of salad, a platter with pieces of fried fish, eggs in various forms, and cake on the table. When she went to change, the children sat by the window, looking for the first star in the sky.
"There it is! Mom, there it is! The first star!" they exclaimed, shouting over each other and pointing to the shining point in the sky.
"I'm coming!" Mom laughed and approached the table.
She divided the Christmas wafer into four pieces, placing one on the plate at the empty spot. She hugged the children, and they exchanged wishes for health, smiles, and all good things before breaking the wafer, exchanging its pieces with each other and eating them. Then they sat at the table, and Mom poured each of them a bit of soup.
"Be careful. It's very hot," she said, blowing on her steaming spoon.
Mom and the twins slowly ate and chatted. The small tree in the corner of the room twinkled with lights, but the children's eyes didn't wander to it in search of presents. Tony and Sierra knew that there were no presents and there wouldn't be any. Their life was comfortable but without excess. They had warm clothes, books, necessary school supplies, and tools for pursuing their interests, but there wasn't enough money for gifts under the tree. The children made up stories at school when talking about holidays and presents, but secretly, they dreamed that someday a miracle would happen, and they would find gifts under the tree.
When the plates from the soup were already empty and they reached for pieces of fish, someone knocked on the door. The children looked at their mom, and then the whole trio turned their gaze to the empty spot at the table.
"A lost wanderer?" Sierra asked, getting up from her chair.
"Wait," Mom stood up and approached the door. She opened it slowly.
"How can I help?" she asked, looking suspiciously at the dark figure.
"I just need to warm up; I missed the last bus, and I'm walking back… I won’t disturb…" a quiet, hoarse male voice answered.
In a fraction of second, horrifying scenes played out in the woman's mind, scenes where the stranger harmed her children and her. In the first instinct, she wanted to close the door. However, something in the man's posture caught her attention; there was something familiar about him. For a moment, she felt as if her late husband, Tom, stood there, not a stranger.
"Come in." she opened the door wider and let the man inside.
The twins stood by the table, silently observing the snow-covered man. Mom placed a chair for him by the fireplace and took his snow-covered jacket and shoes to shake them outside.
"I can do it myself!" the man tried to stand and help, but the woman dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Sierra examined the man's backpack and clothes.
"Look!" she whispered to her brother, pointing to the military patches on the stranger's jacket. The backpack also looked military. The girl grabbed an empty cup and carefully poured steaming soup into it. She wrapped the cup in a napkin and approached the man cautiously.
"It's mushroom soup," she said softly, extending her hands with the cup. "Just be careful, it's very hot."
The man smiled at her and gently took the cup from her hand. "Thank you."
He blew on the cup's contents and waited for it to cool enough not to burn his lips and tongue. In the meantime, Tony wrapped pieces of bread in a napkin and also approached the man, reaching out his hands. The stranger leaned the cup against his knee and, with one hand, reached for the bread. The children stood beside him, watching him dipping the bread in the soup and slowly eating. His red, cold hands were regaining their normal color.
When Mom returned with the clothes, the twins were engrossed in conversation with the newcomer. She placed wet shoes and hung the jacket by the fireplace.
"Come to the table," she said with a smile. "Dinner is still ongoing."
The children took an empty cup from the newcomer and ran to their seats. The man, visibly embarrassed, stood up and approached the table.
"I wouldn't want to intrude on your family Christmas dinner," he said softly, looking at Mom.
"You're not intruding. We always set an extra place, just for such situations," she pointed to a seat at the table.
"I'm Peter," he shyly extended his hand.
"Ana," she shook his hand. "And these are Sierra and Tony," she pointed to the twins.
The children nodded and returned to their interrupted meal.
Ana handed Peter a fish platter and encouraged him to enjoy what was on the table. Over time, Peter began to join the conversation, and the atmosphere loosened enough for the twins to laugh loudly at his jokes. The children asked him many questions, but one sad look from Ana told him more than everything he heard from them. He skillfully avoided topics that could spoil the children's mood and focused on colorful anecdotes.
Late in the evening, after helping Ana and the children clean up after dinner, the twins prepared a sleeping place for him by the fireplace.
"Goodnight, Peter," Sierra hugged him around the neck and squeezed.
More reserved, Tony shook the man's hand and went with his sister to their bedroom. Their voices could still be heard for a while before, exhausted, they finally fell asleep.
Ana placed a cup of freshly brewed tea on the table for him.
"Do you need anything else?" she asked, looking at him.
"Thank you, Ana. I have everything I need," Peter nodded slightly. "Sleep well."
"Goodnight," she closed the door to the bedroom behind her, and after a moment, the whole house fell into silence.
Peter lay on the bed prepared by the children and gazed into the fire. There was no trace of the cold that had been his everyday reality. The warm dinner, the affection from the children, and Ana's slightly reserved but still friendly demeanor had warmed his body and soul. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a few hours of sleep.
Long before Ana and the children woke up, Peter dressed and tidied his bedding. Quietly, he left the cozy cottage and continued on his way. When the children woke up in the morning and rushed out of the room to greet him, they found emptiness and silence.
"Peter?" Sierra whispered, swallowing tears. "Why did he leave, too?" The girl turned to her mother.
"He didn't come here to replace Dad, Sierra," Mom hugged her and stroked her head as sobs shook the girl's body. "I know you miss Dad," Ana said when they sat by the fireplace.
Nestled in her, Sierra cried for a long time. When she no longer had the strength to grieve, she extricated herself from her mother's embrace and looked at her brother.
"Tony, where did you hide the album?"
The boy smiled and ran to the room. After a moment, he returned with a thick album. The three of them spread a blanket in front of the fireplace and began to look at the photos. From their parents' trips, through their wedding, and then the birth of the twins. Mom with a university diploma, Dad in uniform, the twins getting older. And the funeral. A coffin covered with a flag, Dad and Mom's friends, family...
That day brought many more tears. Mom and the twins spent most of their time by the fireplace, looking at all the mementos they had of their dad. Laughter broke through the tears as they remembered Dad's silly jokes. When evening came, Mom sent them to bed early, knowing how exhausting the day had been. When silence settled in the house, she looked at the shelf adorned with photos of her deceased husband. For the first time since his death.
"We miss you, Tom..." she whispered, tracing her finger over his face in the photo. After a moment, she, too, went to sleep.
A few days later, the twins rushed home from the store, calling for Mom from the street.
"What happened?" Ana asked, waiting for them in the open doorway and taking the shopping bags.
"Look!" Sierra handed her a newspaper. "It's Peter!"
Ana left the groceries on the table and unfolded the newspaper.
"Miraculously saved on Christmas Eve," she read aloud.
The twins quickly took off their shoes and jackets and, after washing their hands, sat at the table, eagerly urging their mom to continue reading.
Ana's calm voice narrated a story to them about a soldier who went missing during a military operation. The husband and father of three had been listed as MIA for six months. However, miraculously, on December 26th, he appeared on the doorstep of his own home. He detailed how, in the middle of nowhere, he found a cottage. Something guided him to the door, and something urged him to knock even though he had no hope. He knew not to expect anything, as no one would let a man wandering alone at night into their home. But that night, a miracle happened. The woman with children who lived in the cottage let him in. They seated him at the table, fed him, treated him like a family member, and provided a warm place to sleep.
"I regret not saying goodbye to them the most," Ana read. "But whatever directed me there was equally determined to order me to leave the house before dawn. I only survived thanks to their help. Thank you, twins, and thank you, twin's mom."
Even after Ana finished reading, silence prevailed for an even longer time.
"That's why you let him in," Sierra said softly.
"He seemed so familiar…" Ana sighed. "I just knew he wouldn't harm us."
The children embraced her and remained in that quiet moment filled with understanding and deep emotion.
Thank you, that you read it till the end. I hope you enjoyed this little story.
Merry Christmas | Frohe Weihnachten | Wesołych Świąt
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