The Chart of Doom
That weekend I took out the Karen Chart to see how I was doing on the naughty/nice scale.
I bit my lip as I looked at it. I was not doing very well.
At first I had gone up, up, up. Then I had begun to drop way down. I had gone up a little, then down. Up a little more, then waaayyy down. Now I was solidly in the naughty zone. If Santa checked my name on his list now, I would get nothing in my stocking but coal and straw. I had to raise my score — and fast. There were only a few days left before Christmas.
I decided to go on a do-or-die niceness campaign. I would be super helpful and super good, even if it killed me.
The first thing I did was see if anything needed cleaning in the kitchen. (There are so many people in the big house that the kitchen is almost always cluttered.) When I looked around, though, I was disappointed to see no crumbs on the table, no dishes in the sink, no unwiped spills on the counter.
I opened the dishwasher. Aha! I would put the dishes away.
They did not seem all that clean (maybe we needed to get a new dishwasher), especially the silverware. But I put everything back in its place.
Whistling happily, I went into the living room, to see what I could do there. I was not going to dust, though. I remembered what happened the last time I did that.
A few minutes later, as I was straightening magazines in the magazine rack, I heard Elizabeth exclaim, “Oh, yuck! Who took the dirty dishes out of the dishwasher and put them in the cupboard?”
Uh-oh. No wonder they seemed dirty. I could feel myself piling up more naughty points. Why did these things keep happening to me? Quickly I gathered up some old magazines and scurried out of the living room.
I dropped the magazines into my wagon and walked down the street to the recycling center. I slipped them through the slot, into the big metal bin that holds recyclable paper. Surely this would count as nice. After all, recycling is good for the entire planet.
When I returned to the big house, Daddy was in the living room scratching his head. “Has anyone seen my new issue of Forbes magazine?” he asked. “And I seem to be missing my new Sports Illustrated and Newsweek too.”
Oh, my gosh! What had I done now? I was turning into a walking disaster. I should have a CAUTION sign attached to me! I dashed upstairs before Daddy could see me blushing. But the awfulness did not stop there.
On Sunday evening I very responsibly did a load of laundry. I measured the soap carefully and made sure there was nothing delicate in the batch. But I forgot to take out one red shirt. I turned everyone’s underwear pink! Elizabeth, Kristy, Emily Michelle, and I did not mind. Some of our underwear is pink anyway. But Sam, Charlie, David Michael, Andrew, and Daddy were not very thrilled.
“Um, I think it’s pretty,” I said lamely as Sam glared at me.
“There is no way I’m wearing this in the locker room!” he complained, and threw his pink shorts back into the hamper. I felt miserable.
That evening I took a look at my revised chart. I had racked up so many naughty points that I had to tape a new piece of graph paper to the bottom of the old one.
I had been so naughty that I probably would not be getting anything from Santa until I was thirty. The worst thing was, I had been sliding downhill even while I was trying extra hard to be nice. That afternoon I had tossed some radishes in the yard for the reindeer. The way things were going, I would not be surprised to find out that radishes are poisonous to reindeer. Santa would never give me anything again!
Rudolph the Runny-Nosed Reindeer
On Tuesday night I was sitting in my room wrapping presents. I am a very good wrapper. My bows are especially bouncy. Sadly I taped David Michael’s package closed. How nice that other people would be getting gifts, I thought. At least my family and friends would enjoy Christmas, even if I myself would not. But I was not going to give up. I would try to be extra nice until the bitter end. In my mind I pictured myself opening my stocking. “Oh, a lovely piece of coal!” I saw myself saying. “And some straw! It seems very fresh! Thank you, Santa!”
I almost burst into tears just thinking about it.
The next day was the last day of school before winter break. Our school’s holiday show would be held in the evening. I still wished I could have been Rudolph, or at least one of the other reindeer. A back-of-the-stage elf was just not much fun. I would have been a fabulous Rudolph, compared to —
But I was trying not to think bad thoughts about anyone else in the show. Super nice, remember?
I let out a long, deep sigh and curled the ends of a ribbon.
The phone rang, and I heard Elizabeth call, “Karen! The phone is for you.”
I leaped up and ran down the hall to the phone.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hello, Kared,” said someone.
“Hannie? Is that you?” I asked.
“Yes. Kared, I have a cold.”
“You have a cold?” I repeated.
“Yes. With a stuffed-up dose,” said Hannie. “I do dot doe if I will be able to go od stage toborrow dight.”
“Oh, no! That is terrible.”
“Yes,” said Hannie. “It is a shabe. But I was thickig. Baybe you should play Rudolph. ‘Rudolph the Red-Dose Reiddeer’ was your idea id the first place.”
My heart leaped. I could not believe it! “Oh, boy! Are you sure?” I cried. “I would love to! I know the part by heart!” Then I remembered that Hannie was not feeling well. And she was probably very disappointed that she would not be able to be in the show. “I mean, do not worry. I will fill in for you. The show must go on. I am so sorry that you will not be in it, though.”
“Oh, I will be id it,” said Hannie. “I ab dot that sick. I just thick a sballer role would be better. We could trade. You be Rudolph, ad I will be Elf Nubber Four. Okay?”
A shiver went down my spine. This was the very sign from Santa that I had been waiting for! Maybe he would send another one during the show.
“Okay!” I said. “That would be fine.”
“Great,” said Hannie. “By bother said she would call Bs. Colbad and let her doe about the chage.”
“I will tell my daddy too,” I said. “See you tomorrow, Hannie. I hope you feel better.”
“I will be fide. Just dot fide enough to fly arond, that is all.”
I hung up the phone and raced to tell Daddy and everyone else about being Rudolph. They seemed happy for me.
That night, before I went to bed, I put on my snow boots and heavy coat and brought some food out to my reindeer. I left a head of cabbage, some oatmeal, and two corn muffins for it. “Enjoy!” I called softly into the darkness.
Then I went upstairs, snuggled under my covers, and went to sleep happy for the first time in weeks.
Reindeer Games
“Is everyone ready?” Ms. Colman asked. “We will go on in about five minutes.”
I nodded, looking at myself in the mirror. I looked great — very reindeerish. All of us reindeers were wearing zip-up reindeer suits. We looked like a herd of special, magical reindeer all right. But there were two differences between my reindeer friends and me: One, underneath my costume I was wearing my flying harness. Two, everyone else had black noses. My nose was bright, shiny red. I felt very special.
After all, I was sure this was Santa’s sign I was doing something right. He must have seen me on my good days and rewarded me with the part of Rudolph. I still wondered if he would send me another sign during the show. Maybe something magical would happen.
“You look great, Karen!” said Hannie. She was dressed in a red and green elf costume.
“Thank you,” I said. “How are you feeling?”
“Huh?” she asked, looking confused. “Oh! Yes, well, I feel much better today,” she said quickly. “I feel almost fine. Not fine enough to be Rudolph. But fine enough for an elf.”
“Oh, good. Thank you for asking me to be Rudolph. It means more to me than you know.” I gave her a hug.
“That
is okay,” she said. “I am glad you could do it.”
The first act in our holiday show was the kindergartners. They sang “Frosty the Snowman.” After them, the first-graders sang “The Little Drummer Boy.” They were pretty good, for little kids.
Finally it was our turn. Ms. Colman clipped on the line that would lift me up in the air. (I had practiced flying earlier in the afternoon. I have to tell you, I was a natural.)
Addie Sidney, in a white beard and red suit, rolled out onstage first. Her wheelchair was decorated with green and red streamers. A big sack stuffed with pretend presents was tied to the back of her chair. Addie let out a “Ho! Ho! Ho!” and the music started.
We trooped onstage, singing the first words of the song: “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer … ”
It was hard to see the audience, but I peered into the darkness and finally picked out Daddy (with a video camera in front of his face) and Elizabeth and Nannie and all the big-house kids. Nearby were Mommy and Seth and Merry, my little-house nanny. I was so, so happy! Both of my families were there to see me. That was a special Christmas treat.
But I had to pretend to be sad. We were singing the part about how the other reindeer would not let Rudolph join in any reindeer games. I slumped my shoulders and shuffled to the edge of the stage.
Then the part came about the foggy Christmas Eve, when Santa needed Rudolph to guide his sleigh. I pranced back to the center of the stage, and we reindeer all lined up in front of Addie. We pretended to pull the sleigh through the air.
When we got to the final line, about Rudolph going down in histoorrrrryyy, Mr. Wickersham pulled the cable attached to my harness, and I rose into the air. I was filled with the Christmas spirit. Rudolph was saving Christmas. I was Rudolph, and I was saving Christmas too, by helping the lost reindeer in my backyard. Surely Santa would see that even if I had been a little naughty and had made a few mistakes, still nobody loved Christmas more than I did.
Grinning, I gazed out over the auditorium. I soared gloriously above the crowd. The applause and cheering lifted me up. I was flying. And then I stopped waiting for a sign. I was enjoying the Christmas season. That was good enough for me.
* * *
After the show, the kids from Ms. Colman’s class stood around backstage and had punch and cookies.
“You were great, Karen,” said Hannie.
“Thank you. You were a good elf too. But I loved flying through the air.”
Hannie leaned in close to me. “Actually, Karen,” she whispered, “my cold was not that bad. I just did not want to play Rudolph. I was afraid of flying around. So really you did me a favor by taking over my part.”
I was surprised. I could not believe anyone would not want to fly around attached to a harness.
“I guess we did each other favors,” I said. “Which is part of what Christmas is all about.” I was thinking about the big favor I was doing for Santa.
“Merry Christmas, Karen.”
“Merry Christmas, Hannie.”
I am so lucky Hannie is one of my best friends.
Christmas Eve
On Christmas Eve my big-house family sat around the tree and sang carols. Nannie made hot cider with cinnamon sticks. We turned off all the lights except the ones on the tree. They winked and blinked white, red, and green. The ornaments — even Charlie’s New York Knicks ball — and the tinsel looked beautiful in the twinkling light. I felt warm and cozy and happy.
As a special treat, we each got to open one present early. I was surprised to remember that people in my family would give me presents too — not just Santa. I felt extra happy all over again, because I realized that having a family who loves me and would give me presents was enough to save Christmas for me.
I decided to open my present from Kristy. While everyone watched, I tore off the paper and ripped off the ribbon. “A watercolor set and a pad of paper for painting on!” I exclaimed. “Thank you, Kristy!” I gave her a big hug. “What a great present!”
“The paper is specially made for water-colors,” Kristy said. She hugged me back. “Merry Christmas Eve, Karen.”
“Merry Christmas Eve, everyone!” I replied. Then I was so full of Christmas spirit that I went around the room and hugged everyone, even David Michael (a person I do not hug very often).
Finally bedtime came. I went to my room and gazed out the window. The reindeer was not there. I had not seen the reindeer in several days. That must be a good sign, I decided. He must have found his way back to the North Pole in time to pull Santa’s sleigh.
I got out the Karen Chart one last time. I was still deep in the naughty zone. I had made a minor comeback in the last few days, but breaking Nannie’s vase out-weighed any good I had done. I still felt terrible about it. I wondered if Santa would overlook the vase incident.
Probably not.
I would be lucky to get a single orange in the toe of my stocking. I could forget about candy or any real presents from Santa. But I had my family. It still felt like Christmas.
I put away the Karen Chart and climbed into bed.
By feeding the reindeer, I had probably saved Christmas for everyone but myself. I felt good about that.
I thought about Andrew asleep in the next room, waiting for Santa to come. He would be so disappointed if Santa did not make it. And there were millions of kids all over the world, just like Andrew, depending on Santa. The thought of all those children having a wonderful, happy Christmas, thanks to me, cheered me up.
I closed my eyes and started drifting off to sleep….
Suddenly I heard a noise in the living room. It sounded like someone thumping around down there.
Santa! It must be Santa!
I sat bolt upright. This was my last chance. Maybe I could go downstairs and explain to Santa that I had not meant to be naughty. Breaking the vase had been an accident, and all the other things that had gone wrong had been accidents too. Could I have a second (or third, or fourth) chance?
I ducked under my bed and gathered up the newspaper that held the broken vase and the wilted flowers. As I trotted downstairs with them, I thought about what I would say.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I heard a voice coming from the living room. But it was not Santa’s voice.
It was Nannie’s. And she was saying, “I just cannot figure out what happened to that vase. I have looked all over for it, and I cannot find it anywhere.”
“That is strange,” said Daddy.
“I cannot imagine what could have happened to it,” said Elizabeth.
Oh, no! This was not my last chance. This was going to be my final punishment. It was what I had been dreading: having to tell my family what I had done. Yes, I could go upstairs and hide the vase again and pretend it had never happened. But that seemed like an awful thing to do on Christmas Eve.
All at once I could not hold it in any longer.
“I have it!” I cried, running into the living room. I opened up the folded newspaper and showed them the fragments of glass. “I broke it. I am sorry!”
I burst into tears.
Nannie’s Vase?
“Karen, be careful with that broken glass,” Nannie said. She took the bundle from me. “Now, tell me what happened to the vase, and why you wrapped the pieces up in a newspaper.”
It all came out. I told Daddy, Elizabeth, and Nannie about my chart. I even went to my room and brought it out for them to see. I told them about trying to be good, but that everything went wrong. I told them about how I broke Nannie’s grandmother’s special crystal vase, and that I did not know what to do about it. I told them about Santa’s lost reindeer, and how I fed it and helped save Christmas.
“I saved Christmas for everyone but me!” I wailed. “I have been so naughty, I am sure I am going to get nothing but coal and straw in my stocking.”
I sobbed and sobbed.
“Come here, sweetie,” said Daddy. He put his arms around me.
“Karen, the vase you broke was not my grandmother’s crys
tal vase,” Nannie said.
I stopped sobbing. “It was not?”
“No. That vase is over there in the hutch, as good as new. See? The vase you broke was just a cheap glass one from a florist,” Nannie went on. “Breaking it was no big deal.”
“Really?” I asked.
“No,” said Nannie. “And you were not horsing around in the living room when you broke it. You were dusting. It was a simple accident. It was not being naughty.”
“Oh,” I said.
“However, you should have told an adult when you broke it,” Daddy pointed out. “Instead of hiding the evidence. Once it was broken, there was nothing you could have done to fix it. But trying to pretend it did not happen was naughty.”
I started tearing up again. “So I am still naughty!” I said. “And Santa still will not come for me this year.”
Daddy patted my shoulder. “Santa will forgive a little naughtiness, Karen,” he said. “He is not so harsh. I am sure that Santa knows you mean well, even if you do slip up every now and then.”
“That is right,” said Elizabeth. “Why, as naughty as Sam and Charlie and Kristy were when they were your age, Santa always brought them something.”
“Kristy was naughty?” I asked, amazed. I could believe Sam and Charlie were naughty, but Kristy?
“They had their moments,” Elizabeth said. “But overall, they were good kids, just like you. And that is what matters to Santa. Not a couple of slipups.”
“I am pretty sure you will get something from Santa,” Daddy said. He kissed my cheek. “Now run along and go to bed. You have a big day tomorrow.”
“Okay, Daddy,” I said. I cannot tell you how relieved I felt. It was as if a huge brick had been taken off my chest. All these weeks I had been so worried about the vase, and now I felt free again. My family had forgiven me. I knew that Santa would forgive me too. “Yippee!” I said softly, padding my way upstairs.
On my way up, I ran into Charlie, coming down.
“Hey, Karen,” he said. He glanced down at his watch. “Past your bedtime, isn’t it?”
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