by Bob Blanton
“No wonder Dad spent so much time in his study.”
“She must be a little intimidating.”
“Oh yeah, she can definitely intimidate you.”
◆ ◆ ◆
“I’ll be down in a minute,” Catie told Liz on Monday morning. “I’ve got a few homework things to do first,” she lied.
“Okay, but I’m not promising any French toast will be left.”
“I know how to make it.”
“See ya,” Liz said, realizing that Catie wanted privacy for some reason.
Catie sat back in the bed; she set her comm so that it would lower her voice to make her sound older, then she dialed.
“Family Aid Boston, how may we help you?”
“I’m planning to make a donation and would like to ask some questions.”
“I’d be happy to answer any question that I can.”
“Could you tell me how many families you have in your shelter right now?”
“We don’t usually give out that kind of information; may I ask why you want to know?”
“I want to do something special for them for Christmas, and I need to know how many families I need to account for.”
“Ma’am, we’re happy to take almost any kind of donation, but we find that we’re more efficient if we just receive the money so we can direct it where it’s most needed.”
“I understand that, and I plan to make a cash donation also, but I wanted to do something special for Christmas.”
“I understand. We currently have thirty-two families in our shelter. We are also currently taking care of over eight hundred families across Boston with various forms of assistance.”
“I know, I saw the story on the news last night, that’s why I’m calling.”
“Okay, how else may I assist you?”
“Can you tell me how many children each of them has and whether both parents are together?”
“I’m not sure, if you would hold please, I’ll get our director to talk with you.”
A few moments later, another woman came on the line. “This is Rebecca Farnsworth, who am I talking with?”
“I would prefer to remain anonymous,” Catie said. “I’m trying to make a donation to the families you have in your shelter.”
“Of course, how can I help?”
“I guess I should explain what I want to do.”
“That would probably be best.”
“Since it’s Christmas, I want to give all the parents a chance to buy Christmas presents for their families and themselves. To do that, I need to know how many families there are and the makeup of each family.”
“We can provide that information, but I’m curious as to how that will help you.”
“I’ve made arrangements with a local bank to provide debit cards for each family. The cards will only be useful at The Prudential Center and can be used to buy two outfits for each member of the family and one toy for each child.”
“I trust our families, but giving them cash cards and expecting them to follow rules like that might be a bit too much.”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Catie said. Her voice showed that she was frustrated even though she was trying to contain it. “The cards will only work for stores in the Prudential Center and only for merchandise. I’m confident we can track their activities sufficiently. I need to know if you will give me the information I need and whether you can get the parents to the Prudential Center at ten o’clock tomorrow so they can pick up their cards from the bank’s representative and do their shopping.”
“We certainly can do that,” Rebecca said. “It’s an unusual gift, but it is generous.”
“Okay, so what is the makeup of each family?”
Rebecca listed off the pertinent information for Catie.
“Okay,” Catie said. “I’ve arranged for the bank to have someone meet you at the Prudential Center. Will you be accompanying the families? They want to be able to check the ID of the person in charge.”
“I will certainly be there.”
“I’ve also arranged with the bank to pay the rent, utilities, and necessary deposits for each family for one year. This is assuming you can find them appropriate accommodations, something they could afford to continue paying for once they’ve had time to recover.”
“Miss,” Rebecca stuttered, “that is probably far more expensive than you might imagine.”
“I’m imagining one to one-point-two million dollars,” Catie said. “I’ve deposited one million with the bank, and they will notify me if they need more money once they’ve determined the burn rate.”
“Oh my, that is generous,” Rebecca said. “Could I ask you to do an interview with a reporter friend of mine? She would keep your identity a secret.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Would you mind if we had her cover the event?”
“Won’t that be awkward for the families?”
“I can assure you the reporter will be discreet and respectful,” Rebecca said. “She’s an old school friend of mine; she’s the same one who did the story you mentioned.”
“I guess that would be okay,” Catie said.
“Is there anything we can tell them to explain your generosity?”
“Just say that someone who has had more than her fair share of good luck wanted to help some families who have had more than their fair share of bad luck.”
“What a lovely sentiment,” Rebecca said. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Just one thing, I’m going to make a cash donation also. Does it work better for you if I do it now, or should I wait until after the new year?”
“We’re a non-profit,” Rebecca said, “so taxes are not an issue. We always prefer to have the money sooner than later, but you should do what works best for your tax situation.”
“Okay, then I’ll make the transfer now,” Catie said. “Done! Thanks for your help, and have a nice day.”
“Oh no, thank you,” Rebecca said.
Catie immediately phoned her mother, “Mommy.”
“Hello, Sweetie,” Linda said.
“Can we go shopping tomorrow? I want to go to the Prudential Center.”
“We can, it’s going to be crazy, though.”
“I like crazy,” Catie said. “Liz and I can meet you at the Magic Bean. We’ll bring all our luggage in our car, so we can just go to Grandma’s with you afterward.”
“What time do you want to meet?”
“How about eleven o’clock? We can do some shopping and then have lunch.”
“We’ll see you then.”
Catie went downstairs to see everybody.
“Well, hello,” her grandmother said. “You decided to join us,” she said as she gave the clock a good look to emphasize the 9:30 time.
“I was just finishing up a few things,” Catie said. “I’ll be all yours for the rest of the day.”
“Good, we have to give you up tomorrow, so we want to spend some time with you. Now, do you want French toast?”
“Yes, I would love some French toast,” Catie said as she gave Liz a ‘see there’ look.
“Coming right up.”
“Liz, we’re going to meet my mother tomorrow for shopping. Could you help me do something so people won’t recognize me?” Catie asked.
“It’s going to be a zoo so you’ll be lost in the crowd, but sure. It’ll be good practice. Maybe we can come up with an incognito look for you,” Liz said.
“I don’t want something flashy; I don’t want to stand out.”
“That’s the definition of an incognito look,” Liz said.
“Okay, thanks.”
◆ ◆ ◆
Catie was browsing in the Magic Bean while she watched various families come in to buy toys for their children. She could quickly tell the ones who were with Family Aid Boston because they looked around the store in a kind of awe. Some of them had brought their children with them to pick out their own toy. Generally, the mother wou
ld tell them to pick something that they would play with all year since it was their one special toy. The children did not rush to the most expensive toys; instead, they really shopped for that one thing they wanted. Several of the little ones got a stuffed animal. Catie especially liked the stuffed tiger. The mothers steered the older kids toward educational toys or the dress-up and role-playing toys. Lots of Avengers’ outfits left the store.
She was standing at the back of the store when she saw her mother and grandmother come in. They looked around the store for a few minutes trying to find Catie. Catie just waited to see how long it would take them to notice her. Finally, they saw her and came back where she was.
“We looked all over for you,” Linda said. “Finally, I saw Liz and decided that the young lady standing next to her must be my daughter.”
Catie laughed. Liz had taken a curling iron to her normally straight brown hair and given it some light curling. Then she had applied a little makeup to Catie’s face. But Catie thought the most significant difference was that she was dressed in high heels, dressy jeans, a light green cashmere turtleneck with a navy jacket over it. Catie would never have thought to combine the clothes like that. Everything except the coat was from her own wardrobe.
“You do look older,” Linda said. “I’m not sure I totally approve,” she added, looking at Liz.
“She does clean up nice,” Liz said.
“I do like that outfit,” Mrs. McGinnis, her grandmother, said. “It might even pass muster with your gran, although Mother does prefer young ladies to wear dresses.”
“I know, she told me,” Catie said. “And told me,” she added with a laugh.
◆ ◆ ◆
“Boys, come in here,” Mrs. McCormack called out. “You should see this story.”
Blake and Marc came out of their father’s study, followed by their father.
“Beth, what is it?” Mr. McCormack asked.
“I want you to watch this news story.” Mrs. McCormack rewound the DVR and pressed play.
“This is Marsha Williams reporting from the Prudential Center with a Christmas story to warm your hearts. With me is Rebecca Farnsworth from Family Aid Boston. Rebecca, what can you tell me about what is happening here?”
“We had an anonymous donor call us yesterday and ask us to set this up,” Rebecca said. “We have thirty-two families who have recently lost their homes and become homeless. They’re having to live in our shelter during this holiday season. This benefactor invited all the families here to the Prudential Center for a little holiday shopping spree. Each family has a gift card that allows them to purchase two outfits for each family member and one toy for each child.”
“That sounds wonderful. There are some really nice shops here, what are the families going for?”
“For clothing, the adults are focusing on things they can wear to work. For some, it will be what they will wear to their next job interview. As you know, they say the clothes make the person; so having a nice professional outfit is always a help during a job interview. The children are getting nice, sensible clothes for school. When a family is having a tough time like these families are, the children can feel isolated because their clothes no longer fit them or fit in with their schoolmates.”
“How long will these families have to stay at your shelter?”
“Usually, it takes two to three months to find the right accommodations for a family. Some of these families have already been with us for a while. But our benefactor has taken that into account. She has ensured that all these families will be moving to new homes as soon as we can find them. Arrangements have been made to pay all the deposits necessary and even cover utility and rent for the next year. As I’m sure you know, the cost of deposits to move into a house or an apartment is prohibitive. That alone prevents many families with the means to pay the rent from finding a new place.”
“That is amazing and extremely generous,” Marsha said. “Did your mysterious benefactor say why she was doing this?”
“She told me she saw your story about homeless families last night on the news. She said that she’s someone who has had more than her fair share of good luck, and she wanted to help these families who have had more than their fair share of bad luck.”
“What an elegant way to put it, but what about all the other families who need help? Surely you could have used the money more efficiently.”
“Yes, we could have, but our benefactor wanted to do something special for the holidays, something a bit more personal than simply a check. But she didn’t forget about the other needy families here in Boston; she also donated fifty million dollars to our charity.”
“Ooh, that is the kind of mysterious benefactor we all need. Well, this is Marsha Williams bringing you this heartwarming story. What I’d like to call Miracle on Boylston Street.”
“Catie and I just watched that reporter’s story last night,” Mrs. McCormack said. “Isn’t that wonderful that someone else saw it and was moved enough to do all that?”
“That’s where all that money went,” Marc said.
“What?”
“Mom, I’m pretty sure your granddaughter is the mysterious benefactor.”
“How can that be? She wouldn’t have that kind of money.”
“Well, she used to,” Marc said.
“What do…, oh, the ship,” Mrs. McCormack said.
“Yes, the ship,” Marc said. “She’s just donated her share.”
“It was that much money?”
“It was a lot more, that’s just what we paid out. The rest is in the company,” Marc said. “Of course, she still owns her share of that.”
“Oh, good. I wouldn’t want her to be broke.”
“She’s anything but broke, a lot more cash-poor than before, but definitely not poor.”
“She does have enough cash money?”
Marc laughed, “She held back five million dollars. But Christmas isn’t over yet.”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Blake said. “If Catie runs out of money, she can always pick some more up playing poker.”
“Or gin,” Fred added. He’d been sitting with Mrs. McCormack, keeping her company when the story came on.
“Oh yes, there’s always gin,” Blake laughed. “Hey, you never told us how much she took you for that night.”
“That’s because I was embarrassed,” Fred said. “She took me for over three thousand dollars.”
“You’re not teaching my granddaughter how to gamble,” Mrs. McCormack scolded Marc.
“I didn’t teach her,” he said. “And the way she plays cards, it’s not really gambling.”
“Ohhhh, she memorizes the cards, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, she does. I don’t know where she learned that little trick, I certainly didn’t teach her.”
“Well, I might have shown her how remembering the odd card with a nick, or a fold would help, back when I was teaching her to play gin,” Mrs. McCormack said sheepishly. “But that was before we realized she has that amazing memory.”
“Oh, so you’re the one I have to blame for all the money she took off of me playing Texas Hold ‘em,” Blake said.
“You shouldn’t gamble,” Mrs. McCormack scolded. “But Texas Hold ‘em. That wouldn’t be gambling for her at all.”
“Not after about ten hands,” Marc laughed.
“Now you know where your daughter inherited all her sly and sneaky ways,” Mr. McCormack said. “When I first met Beth, she was supplementing her income playing gin.”
“Well, they don’t pay teachers enough, especially back then,” Mrs. McCormack said. “Anyway, I don’t do that anymore.”
“I think that’s because nobody will play with her,” Mr. McCormack laughed.
Marc texted Catie, “Your grandparents and I are proud of you.”
Blake texted, “I’m proud of you too.”
◆ ◆ ◆
“Time to open presents,” Mrs. McGinnis said. “We have eggnog and cookies on the coffee table.”
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br /> “I think we should start with the guest of honor,” Mr. McGinnis said.
“We’re starting with Mommy?” Catie quipped.
“No, the youngest is always the guest of honor,” Catie’s great grandmother said.
“Seems like it should be the other way around.”
“Well, the other way around defines who’s in charge,” Catie’s great grandfather said. “Now, be quiet.”
“Starting with your fun gift,” Mrs. McGinnis said. “Here’s your gift,” she handed Catie a large, wrapped box.
Linda’s family had a rule that came from many generations back. Each person received only one fun or special gift; all the other gifts were clothes or work-related. Catie had resented the rule when she was seven and realized that everybody didn’t have the same rule. That was until her mother took her to visit a homeless shelter and had her work in a soup kitchen for a whole weekend. She got over her resentment right away.
“It’s so big.”
“Well, open it!”
Catie tore the wrapping paper off, revealing a beautiful jewelry box.
“It so beautiful, what is it made of?”
“It’s a mahogany frame with rosewood insets and drawers,” Mrs. McGinnis said. “Now open it. The lid has a mirror in it.”
Catie opened the lid showing the mirror inset into it. It also showed a padded shelf with hooks to hold earrings.
“It tilts up so you can see them dangle.”
Catie tilted the shelf up, underneath it was a set of boxes. The right-hand side was for holding rings, the left-hand side was for studs.
“This is really nice,” Catie said. “It will hold all my jewelry.”
“Open the second drawer,” Mrs. McGinnis said.
Catie opened the drawer to reveal a tennis bracelet with diamonds and emeralds.
“Oh, this is too much,” Catie said.
“You can’t give an empty jewelry box, it just isn’t done,” Mrs. McGinnis said. “Besides, it was an excuse for your grandfather shop for you.”
“But where will I wear something like this?”
“I’m sure with all that work your father is doing with the government down there in the Cook Islands, you’ll have opportunities.”
“This is from us,” Catie’s great grandmother said as she handed Catie a velvet box wrapped in a ribbon.