The Gift of Goodbye

by Kleven, M. Kay

  “You’d better be kidding,” I replied, opening the door to SoHome Department Store that carried all kinds of Christmas things this time of year.

  Not only did we buy several strings of multi-colored lights, a vast assortment of bright Christmas ornaments, boxes of red, green, gold, and silver balls, and the most angelic angel we could find for the top of the tree, but we ended up buying a step-stool so we could reach the top of our seven-foot-tall tree to decorate high up and to be able to set the angel in place. We also bought a set of rollicking green elves for the coffee table, a swag for the fireplace, and a wreath for the door. So, by the time we made it back home and finished decorating the tree from top to bottom, as well as the rest of the apartment, we were giggling hysterically and hugging each other.

  We ended the day with mugs of warm apple cider and cinnamon sticks as we watched the lights twinkle on our tall tree and took in the wonderful smell of fresh pine throughout the apartment.

  The next morning, I shook Mara on my way out the door. “My piano lesson is tonight after work, so I’ll be home late.”

  “Daniel and I are going Christmas shopping today and then we’re going to a Broadway play this evening. He wants to be an actor, you know.”

  “I know. Have fun, and I’ll see you later tonight or in the morning.”

  “See ya, Anna Louise.”

  The Emporium was busy for a Monday, especially for Thomas. I took one call after another wanting him to come tune their piano for a big Christmas extravaganza they were having in the next week or so. The day flew by. I needed to leave as soon as Thomas stepped in the back door to catch a cab for my piano lesson. “Have to go or I’ll be late for my lesson.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll lock up,” Thomas replied, waving me out the door.

  As I sat down at the piano, Ms. Thompson took a seat next to me on the bench. “I need to ask you something, Anna Louise. The school has been asked to play Christmas carols for the children at the Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital during their festivities this Saturday, and I wanted to ask if you would be willing to play for the children.”

  “Of course, but I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t even know where the Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is.”

  “Any cab driver in New York would be able to drop you off at the children’s hospital and someone on the staff would be there to greet you, taking you to the piano.”

  “But, I’ve never played children’s Christmas carols before. I don’t even have a book of children’s carols.”

  “Oh, but I do.” Ms. Thompson rose from the piano bench and walked over to the cabinet where all of the music was stored. “Here’s a book of carols I know the children will love. It’s yours now.” Sitting back down on the piano bench, Ms. Thompson opened the book to the first carol, “Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.” “Try playing the music for me, Anna Louise.”

  I began playing, stumbling through the song a couple of times, until the sound of the music became familiar to me, then I smiled and picked up the tempo. Ms. Thompson turned the pages as I continued to work my way through “Jingle Bells,” “Frosty the Snowman,” and “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.”

  “You won’t have any trouble playing these carols by Saturday,” Ms. Thompson said as she closed the book and handed it to me. “The program begins at two o’clock, but you’ll be listed to play near the end because the children love to sing Christmas carols and get all excited about Santa coming to see them. Santa is the finale, bringing a gift for each of the children.”

  “How wonderful,” I said. “It should be a lot of fun. Would it be okay if I brought my roommate, Mara, with me? She’s and artist and could paint each of the children’s faces.”

  “I don’t see why not. She could paint faces while you play and sing carols with the rest of the children. I think they’d be thrilled.” Ms. Thompson stood up, then stated, “I’ll let the program chairwoman know you’ll be playing the piano and that your roommate will be doing face paintings on Saturday, then.”

  “I’ve never played for children before, but now I’m actually looking forward to it. Thank you.” I opened my backpack and slid the book of carols inside.

  “Thank you, Anna Louise, for sharing your talent with the children. I can hardly wait to hear what they have to say next Monday.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Thomas was on his way out the next night when he heard Christmas carols coming from the direction of the piano I was practicing on. “Someone is sure in the Christmas spirit. I enjoy hearing Christmas carols, but those sound like they’re for children.”

  “They are. Ms. Thompson talked me into playing for the children at the Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital this Saturday. Mara has agreed to do face paintings. Would it be okay if I leave around one-thirty on Saturday?”

  “Of course you can. Beth has volunteered at Morgan Stanley for years. Ever since our second son Lucas was a patient there when he was a young child. Now he’s a sophomore in high school. She’s seen a lot of children come and go from that hospital.”

  “It sounds like the hospital makes the Christmas festivities special for the children, even bringing in Santa Claus with a bagful of gifts for them.”

  “I’ll tell Beth you’re playing on Saturday and that Mara is doing face paintings. Maybe she and my daughter, Ashley, will stop by and join in on the festivities.”

  “That would be great. I only met Ashley for a moment at the funeral.”

  “She’s all girl, ten going on twenty, if you know what I mean.” Thomas laughed. “Well, guess I’d better be on my way. See you tomorrow.”

  “See ya, Thomas.”

  On Saturday, Mara stopped by the Emporium and visited with Thomas while I finished with a customer, then we hailed a cab to the Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital. Mara carried her case of face paints, while I had my book of Christmas carols tucked away in my backpack.

  We were greeted inside the front entry by a woman named Michelle who guided us to the room where the festivities would take place. The piano was a white baby grand and I could hardly wait to try it out. Mara set up her paints on a counter that stretched along one wall. A high classroom stool for the children was placed nearby. Michelle would be leading the program and also reading a Christmas story to the children before I began to play and sing carols with them. As Ms. Thompson had suggested, Mara would be painting each of the cherub faces as they sang along with the Christmas carols.

  At two o’clock, the door flew open and twelve children of all ages filled the room, some in the Christmas spirit and some not. They each sat down on one of the bright-colored, plastic chairs placed in a semi-circle and waited for Michelle to begin the program.

  “Merry Christmas, children,” she said. “We’re going to have lots of fun this afternoon. Mara over here is going to paint whatever you would like on your face and while she does that Anna Louise is going to play Christmas carols and listen to all of you sing loud and clear, but first I’m going to read you a Christmas story about a crippled little boy, a lonely puppy in a shelter, and Santa Claus. After you’ve finished singing, there will be ice cream and Christmas cookies for everyone.”

  All of the children, but one, cheered and couldn’t wait for the party to begin. A sad little girl with a broken left arm and swollen face sat staring at the floor. But, the party began as the children sat quietly and listened to Michelle read the Christmas story that had a happy ending for the crippled little boy Tucker and his new black and white puppy Otis. The children clapped. Then one by one, the children sat on the stool as Mara painted whatever they wanted on their faces as I played and the other children gathered around the piano to sing “Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.” Then, when I struck up the music for “Jingle Bells,” the children began to sing louder and louder. “Frosty the Snowman” had them dancing around the room. Seeing their smiles,
along with the paintings on their faces, seemed magical as they danced around the room playing follow-the-leader. Treats were brought in and everyone sat back down with their bowl of ice cream and cookies, talking a mile a minute now.

  “Ho, ho, ho,” came the sound of a deep voice as the door flew open once again. In came Santa with a bag full of presents flung over his back. I quickly retrieved my phone to capture the faces of the children as they gazed up at Santa. They were priceless.

  “I’ve got presents for all of you good little boys and girls,” Santa called out, setting his bag down on the floor. As he called out each of their names, the child would jump up to receive their gift. When he called out the name Savannah, no one came forward, then I saw the little girl with the broken left arm and swollen face glance up at Santa. Could she possibly be the same Savannah I had gotten to know on my ride from Wisteria, Kansas, to New York City?

  Santa knelt down beside her and said, “Are you Savannah?”

  She nodded her head yes.

  “This Christmas present is for you, then.”

  Savannah took the present and very softly said thank you, but nothing more.

  After staring at her the whole time Santa talked to her, I was almost certain she was the same little girl I knew. Tears came to my eyes, remembering how her mother had treated her. Once Santa had wished Savannah a Merry Christmas and walked back over to pick up his bag, I went over and knelt down beside the little girl just as Santa had done. “Savannah. Do you remember me from our bus ride together from Kansas to Manhattan?”

  She stared at me for a minute, then cried out, “Anna Louise.” I hugged her as we both began to cry.

  The nurse assigned to watch over the children during the festivities came over and tapped me on the shoulder. “Do you know Savannah?”

  “Only a little,” I replied. “We shared a bus ride from Kansas to New York about six months ago.”

  “Could I speak with you in private for a few minutes?”

  “Yes, of course,” I replied.

  But, before following the nurse out of the room, I turned to Savannah, and said, “I’ll be back to see you again. Soon.”

  The nurse told me that Savannah’s mother had been killed by her boyfriend and that he had beaten Savannah almost to death. She played dead and after he finally left the apartment, which she and her mother shared with this man, Savannah was able to call 9-1-1 on her mother’s phone.

  “How old is Savannah? I thought she was maybe six years old on our bus ride.”

  The nurse told me Savannah knew her birth date and that she was indeed six years old. When they asked her about her father, she said she didn’t know who her father was. That her mother was always meeting men online and moving the two of them to wherever the next boyfriend lived. Every time her mom met someone new, she thought they would take care of her and Savannah, but they never did.

  “Has Savannah ever gone to school?” I asked.

  “No. She and her mother never lived in one place long enough for her to go to school. Her mom taught her the alphabet, how to read a little bit, to write her name, and how to count to one hundred, which has been Savannah’s saving grace.”

  “Does she know her mother is dead?” I could barely get the words out. “By the way, what is Savannah’s last name, if I might ask?”

  “Her last name is Walker. And, yes, we told her about her mother because we needed to know the next of kin for the body.”

  “Did she know of anyone?”

  “Only a brother of her mom who lives in Alabama. That’s where Savannah said she was born.”

  “Will Savannah be going back to Alabama once she’s healed enough to travel?”

  “No. She’ll probably be going to foster care once she’s discharged from the hospital. We contacted the brother and he said to send the body, but not Savannah. He had no way to take care of her or to support her.”

  “That is so sad. I’ll be back to visit Savannah as often as I can. Thank you for telling me what happened with Savannah and her mother.”

  “Savannah seemed really happy to see you.”

  “We had fun on our long ride from Kansas to Manhattan. We played games on my phone, as well as some tic-tac-toe and hangman on paper. It didn’t take her long to learn the games on my phone and she did really well with the hangman words.”

  “I know she’ll be glad to see you whenever you can come back to visit. It will help her heal faster, too.”

  The children’s room was pretty much empty by the time I returned from my visit with the nurse, but when I spotted Mara, she was talking to Beth and Ashley Cutler. Mara saw me out of the corner of her eye and asked, “Where did you go? We were about to send out a search party.”

  “Hi, Beth and Ashley. Nice to see you again,” I said. “You’ve met Mara?”

  “Yes. Daniel brought her by the house one day when he needed to change clothes for the evening, and we’ve seen her a few times since,” Beth replied, smiling over at Mara.

  “But, where did you disappear to, Anna Louise?” Mara asked again.

  “The nurse wanted to speak to me after I recognized the young girl, Savannah, from our bus ride to New York.”

  “The little girl with the broken left arm and swollen face?” Beth asked.

  “Yes. Her mother was killed by a boyfriend and now Savannah has no one. She will probably go to foster care from the hospital.”

  “She looked so lonely when I saw her,” Ashley said.

  “I’m sure she is. Scared, too,” I replied. “She’s never been to school, but she knows how to read a little, write her name, and count to one hundred.”

  “I’ll introduce myself to her on the days I volunteer at the hospital,” Beth said. “Maybe if she learns to trust me, she’ll talk to me more about herself and her mom.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Beth,” I said, giving her a little hug. “I’m going to visit Savannah every chance I get.”

  “I’ll come with you to visit,” Mara said. “Maybe Savannah and I can draw together, kittens and puppies.”

  “Thank you all for understanding. I’ve never faced anything like this before,” I said. “I met Savannah on the bus when I left Kansas for New York. I sat across the aisle and could see and hear her mom being physically and verbally mean to her. I couldn’t stand to listen, so asked if Savannah could sit with me. We played games during our ride. I said goodbye to Savannah when we got off the bus in Manhattan.”

  “It will all work out,” Beth said. “Ashley and I need to find our way home. It was good to see both of you. Oh, Anna Louise, I’m counting on you to keep your eye on my son and Mara.” She glanced at me, then over at Mara with a wide smile on her face.

  “I’ll try,” I said with a wink. “But it won’t be easy!”

  Chapter 7

  Not that I didn’t like the pink and purple on Mara, but happily her hair was back to its natural color for her brother Blake’s concert at Carnegie Hall tonight. Her beautiful golden-brown curls looked splendid on top of her head, showing off her swan-like neck and the strapless sapphire blue gown she’d chosen to wear. Sparkling rhinestone earrings dangled from her ears.

  Somehow, Mara had also been able to take my long, dark-brown hair and style it up off my neck for the evening. My dress was a shimmering, one-shoulder, white gown that had caught my eye the second I saw it in the store. I wore a cascade of sparkling, silver bracelets on my left arm and a pair of glittering, silver hoop earrings in my ears. We each wore a warm shawl and carried a clutch purse.

  Trying not to be the giggly girlfriends we were, I pushed the button for the elevator to take us down to the entry and out into the waiting cab.

  “Carnegie Hall, please,” I said, choking on the words as Mara and I climbed in.

  Mara stared over at me as she slid back in the s
eat. “You sound nervous, Anna Louise.”

  “I am, Mara. Carnegie Hall has been part of my dream for years, and tonight I’m actually going to be there.”

  As we pulled up in front of the brightly lit words CARNEGIE HALL, Mara and I stepped out into the night. I glanced around at the crowd as we made our way inside. These were the beautiful people of New York. Here I was, little Anna Louise Armstrong from Wisteria, Kansas, about to be seated in the great Carnegie Hall to listen to Blake Holbrook play a solo performance tonight. Savannah flashed before my eyes.

  “Hi, Mom and Dad.” Mara let out a burst when she saw them. “Guess I didn’t realize we’d be sitting right next to you.

  “Hi, Mara and Anna Louise,” Eileen Holbrook said. “Good to see you both. Love your gowns.”

  “Thanks,” Mara and I chimed in unison.

  Robert Holbrook, Mara’s dad, leaned over and greeted us, too.

  I stretched across Mara, trying to keep my voice low, as I said to Mara’s mom, “I can’t tell you how honored I am to be here attending Blake’s concert in this great hall tonight. Will you be staying in New York for the holidays?”

  “We’ll be staying with Blake through Christmas, so hope we can see more of you two while we’re here,” Eileen replied, gazing at Mara, giving her one of those motherly looks.

  “You’ll have to come by our apartment in SoHo for a visit while you’re here,” I said, noticing the daughterly look on Mara’s face.

  “What a great idea,” Mara replied. “Wait until you see our really tall Christmas tree and all of the lights and decorations on it. You’ll love it, Mom.” Mara thought for a moment, then continued. “Anna Louise works during the day. So why don’t you and I spend one day Christmas shopping around Manhattan, then Dad, Blake, and Anna Louise can join us for dinner at one of the restaurants, finally ending up in SoHo for a nightcap of Christmas coffee or tea around the tree?”