Christmas Daisy

by Christine Bush

  The angels sang. The babe was born. The shepherds arrived, and Peter, one of the teens with a great voice and courage to match, sang “The Little Drummer Boy”, complete with bongo drum. The three kings made their appearance. The trio of middle schoolers sang “We Three Kings of Orient Are”, with great stamina, even if slightly off key.

  “I don’t think we should bring these dumb gifts to the baby,” complained Mario, one of the kings. “What kid really wants Frankincense for Christmas?”

  “”Yeah, man,” grumbled Jarrett, king number two. “I think we should give him an Xbox. Or maybe an IPod.”

  There was great discussion of the appropriateness of the gifts of Frankincense and Myrrh. Eventually, they conceded they would accept to do the pageant as written. And rehearsals went on.

  The final song of the pageant was planned to be “Angels We Have Heard on High”, sung by the whole cast, and featuring the angels. At the final rehearsal, when they had added costumes, props, and a giant spotlight, run carefully by Mr. Andy at the back of the audience, they were still working out the details, and there was more than a bit of chaos.

  “Everybody, this is it,” commanded Ben to his staff and students. “On stage for the finale. This is the last scene, and we want to leave everybody with a great feeling of peace and good will.”

  Which was not exactly the tone of the minute. The kids were all over the place, flapping angel wings, banging bongos, and two shepherds were having a sword fight with their curved shepherds’ crocks.

  In slight desperation, Miss Gracie began the chords to the final song, which could barely be heard over the excited din. Mr. Ben clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. The cast finally moved to their places. But only a few angels joined in for the first few lines.

  “Angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing over the plains.

  And the mountains in reply, echoing their joyous strains…”

  Sensing they were singing alone, the singing angels paused.

  As they stopped singing, the room suddenly became silent, except for the tinkling notes of Miss Gracie’s piano. And one lone voice.

  Little Hannah, feeling safe while flanked by Daisy and Alexandra, her two protectors, had begun singing exuberantly with the crowd. And into the sudden quiet, her little voice went on…

  “Glor—orrrrr—orrrrr-ooorrr-i- a

  In excelcius Deo,

  Glor-ooor-orrrr—orrrr—i---a

  In excelcius Deo..”

  Hannah’s little voice echoed through the silence, its clear childlike tones sounding like a heavenly gift. Everyone froze, including Miss Gracie at the piano.

  There was a long soundless moment.

  “Wow, that was cool,” whispered Tyrone in a gruff whisper into the silence.

  And then the whole room broke into applause and hoots of appreciation.

  “That was great, Hannah.”

  “Sounded like an angel!”

  The little girl’s face creased into a wide joyful smile. She clenched her hands together, almost as if in prayer. “That was so fun!” She squealed in an exuberant voice.

  “We should do that song like that,” said Maria, holding up her Raggedy Ann doll baby Jesus. “Hannah should sing the chorus to the baby Jesus, and that’s a fact.”

  Ben stepped up on the stage and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. Hannah tilted her had back and looked up at him in awe.

  “That was really fantastic, Hannah! Do you want to sing a solo for the chorus? It’s up to you..”

  The little girl squeezed Daisy’s hand with surprising strength. She nodded with hesitation. “Okay. I can do it as long as I have Miss Daisy and Alexandra with me.” She looked back and forth at her two supporting angels.

  “Sounds good to me,” said Daisy with an unexpected tug on her heart. She was so proud of little Hannah. She was so awed by her courage and her enthusiasm for life, even after all the loss she had experienced in her short seven years.

  Alexandra nodded too, still not speaking a word.

  “Well, let’s do it then,” said Ben in a happy voice.

  Daisy’s gaze locked with Ben’s as he stood in front of the cast assembled on the stage, arms raised to direct the song. She could read his enthusiasm for the pageant as he worked. And she could feel his caring and concern as he looked into her eyes, discerning her feelings, checking on her anxiety level. She tried to smile back, well aware the expression was forced. He smiled back, understanding. It was affirming to know he watched her, even if embarrassing. What kind of person got so stressed out over the sound of Christmas music?

  Daisy sighed, looking at little Hannah beside her, and then Alexandra standing nervously on Hannah’s other side. Only for these two dear students would she put herself through this. And for Ben. She looked out at Ben again, the pride in his excited students practically radiating out of him. He loved New Horizons, this amazing little school that gave so many students second chances.

  The cast came to order on the stage, and the song was rehearsed again. The whole group sang the first verse, “Angels We Have Heard on High…” It was powerful.

  When they got to the chorus, Hannah hesitated a beat, nervousness showing. But then she opened her mouth, and jumped in. Her eyes were wide, and she kept her death grip on Daisy’s hand. This time through, realizing she was in the spotlight, she was a little self conscious. But like the trooper she obviously was, she threw herself into the chorus, her voice filling the room.

  “Gloorrr- orrrr- orrr- I- a. In Excelcius Deo…… “

  The whole cast sang the next verse and the last chorus together. The carol ended with a breathtaking finale. When the last note rang, the group stood silently on stage.

  The silence was palpable, like the whole cast was holding their collective breath. And then they burst into a collective cheer, applauding, hooting and hollering.

  Daisy closed her eyes, aware of the cascade of feelings that ran through her heart, so strong they even reverberated through her body. She felt the beauty of the song. She felt the joy and courage of the little girl hanging onto her hand. She also felt an unexpected glimmer of her old Christmas spirit, that ancient childish excitement she had felt for so much of her childhood. But immediately upon realizing it, the feeling was scary, and uncomfortable, ripping at her heart. And like a door shutting firmly in her mind, the feeling was blocked out as quickly as it had come. And then she felt only the much more recent and familiar feeling of loss and pain. Her knees felt suddenly weak, and her throat closed. Her aversion to Christmas flowed through her like a flood, washing out the good feelings, and leaving more devastation than she knew what to do with in its path.

  ****

  Ben stood in front of the stage, directing the final song of the last dress rehearsal. He felt a surge of pride fill his chest, watching the students as they belted out their last song. Awesome.

  But then, his gaze went back to Daisy, standing on the edge of the angel choir. He knew how hard it had been the past few weeks as she had been exposed to all the Christmas music and fervor. He knew she did her best. He knew she was a dedicated professional. But he knew the pageant had taken its toll. Her face looked drawn, there were new circles under her eyes. While he was thrilled for the kids’ experience in the pageant, and the great success for the school and the community he knew it would be, he would be glad for Daisy when the pageant and the holiday had passed.

  Ben wanted her to heal. He wanted her to find peace and acceptance of her pain. But he had no idea how to help her. He was a realist, and life had taught him a lot about grief. It took its own time. And sometimes it took forever. That was a painful thought.

  With his watchful gaze, he saw the moment where the feelings had overwhelmed her. She had been coping one minute, then ..not. The song had ended, and the cast burst into excited applause. And then he saw Daisy Donovan burst into tears. It wasn’t the loud and sobbing kind of reaction. He knew she probably hadn’t made a single sound noticeable to the happy crowd around her.
But looking directly at her, seeing the pain in her eyes, the quivering of her lips, fighting hard to be stoic, he knew. And then , in the reflection from the bright spotlights trained on the stage, he could see the glistening in her eyes, and even the tracks of tears running down her pained face.

  While it was easy to see the reverie and celebration of a great final rehearsal for the pageant, at that moment, his heart cared only for the blonde angel on the stage. He watched her turn away from the crowd, and make a hasty exit off the stage and out the side door of the auditorium. He wanted to kick himself for encouraging her to take part in the pageant, no matter how much he had needed her. Ben had never, ever, wanted to cause her so much pain.

  The crowd dispersed, costumes flying as they energetic students disrobed and handed their outfits to Mr. Andy and Miss Gracie who were flinging them onto hangers, and trying to keep order.

  “See you tomorrow.” The happy kids began to leave.

  “Tell your neighbors we have plenty of tickets.”

  “Great job!”

  Within minutes, the stage was empty, except for the remaining teachers scurrying to put things in order.

  “I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Ben called to his staff, as he turned on his heel and headed for the side door where Daisy had disappeared. They answered with affirmation, and he waved to them over his head, not even turning around. He had only one thing on his mind. Where had she gone?

  Ben headed up to her classroom, suspecting Daisy might find solace there. But the room was deserted, almost dark, the only light coming in through the classroom windows from the street lights outside. Slight rays angled down to make a pattern on the floor, casting shadows among the desks and the kids’ hanging mobiles. She was not there, and he saw in a flash that her woolen poncho, which usually hung from the back of her chair, was gone. Ben’s heart lurched. Had she felt so bad she actually left school in her desolate state? His mouth felt dry. Poor Daisy. Sad and alone in the cold night. He felt sadness creep into his own bones, chilling him to the core. He wanted to help her. He wanted to ease her pain, even to share her pain. Though he strongly suspected she would not want it. She kept so much to herself.

  With a deep sigh, a mind blowing realization washed over him again as he stood helplessly in the empty classroom, staring at the hazy light patterns on the wooden floor. He really loved her. Deeper than ever. Daisy Donovan, the energetic little ball of fire brought joy and laughter to all she touched, despite her own pain. But like that ball of fire that she was, she was untouchable. Unreachable. Where was she? In her heart, she was used to being alone. And the thought left him feeling very, very alone too.

  Within minutes, after the end of rehearsal, the school had emptied out as fast as a fire drill. Clattering up and down the steps with their daily belongings, they all trooped out into the cold night air to be met by their various busses and car pools. A few who lived close enough slugged their way up the street, walking toward home. Night came early in December, along with the cold air.

  Ben walked slowly back down to his office, where lights still burned brightly. The school was silent around him. He stood in the front hallway at the bottom of the steps, and sucked in a deep breath. Even in the quiet, he loved this school. Filled with students, he loved it even more. And now, daring to acknowledge the burgeoning feelings in his heart, he loved it even more with Daisy Donovan at his side. But would she ever really be by his side? Or was she gone?

  He had build New Horizons by himself, though he had the support of strong and caring individuals like Hugh Highfield. It had been his dream, his goal, his mission in his life. And though people had had his back, especially financially, he had never had anyone he felt was so totally by his side. His staff had been great, and he was enormously thankful for each of them.

  But it had been different with Daisy. Maybe it was because of her pain that she could identify so strongly with these kids who had experienced differing pains in their lives. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, trying to think, to understand.

  Christmas. He had always felt it was such an important time of year. An d it was. But obviously not always in a good way. It had been a catalyst to unhinge it all. It had increased that pain that resided so deep in Daisy Donovan, until that pain was so acute she had had to leave. What if she was gone for good?

  Chapter Nine

  Humiliated she had no way to stop the tears that had cascaded down her face, Daisy had wiped her eyes as subtly as she could, and had fled from the stage the split second she felt she could get away. Her throat felt raw, and her hands were shaking. Her emotions were rolling over her, creating havoc in every part of her. She was so tired of her errant feelings.

  Had it been noticeable? Hard to believe, by how bad she felt, that the whole world hadn’t experienced her pain. Little Hannah, next to her, had been clinging to her hand during her song. The tremors she felt would have been noticeable, but the little girl had been steeped in her own feelings, most probably, and might not have picked up on Daisy’s overwrought reaction. At least she hoped so. Creating more upset or anxiety for a student was sure not on her intention list. And yet she probably had.

  When she reached her classroom, she felt no relief from her emotions. Desperately, she grabbed her poncho from the back of her desk chair, flinging it around her shoulders. She quickly and silently moved back down the steps to the front lobby, her feet padding softly on the wooden steps. She was aching for escape. But where would she go?

  She got to the front door without seeing anyone at all, though she heard student’s voices echoing up the stairway from the cafeteria as they made their way to the door. She slipped out into the darkness, feeling like an animal darting for its life on the African grasslands. Her breath was coming in short bursts, her head was aching. How had she gotten herself into this vulnerable position? She knew better. She had gotten by for years without making a fool of herself with her overwhelming emotions. She had avoided Christmas and anything that was connected to it. It had been safer, saner.

  But like a moth to a flame, she had fallen into this trap. Helping with the costumes. Hearing the constant Christmas music. Seeing the joy of the students. Seeing, believing in Ben Wilson’s dream for New Horizons School. It had finally gotten to her. Maybe it had been inevitable.

  The night air hit her like a frigid wall the moment she stepped outside. It was cold. A deep breath sucked in a lung full of cold air, shocking her system, and diverting her rapid thoughts. She was instantly grateful for it. Her instincts guided her to run away, to rush down the porch steps, and disappear into the night, leaving New Horizons behind. And her students. And Ben. The thought squeezed her heart. She thought of his face as he stood directing their final song. His pride. His delight. And he had been watching her, too. She had sensed it. She had seen it. And when her emotions had rolled out of control, she had seen his reaction too. Sadness. She felt guilt just realizing it. Her emotional trials had taken away his joy.

  So she couldn’t just run away, no matter the urge. She would have to get herself in control, and dare to face him and talk it out. No matter how disappointed he was.

  The big front porch of the school was dark and empty. She looked from left to right. On purpose, she neglected to turn on the giant brass porch light that sat beside the door. There was enough light from the street lights to illuminate the steps and the sideway for safety. The dark wouldn’t hurt anyone. And it would sure give her a place to hide. And think. She moved to the far right side of the porch, back to a corner where the street lights had no effect. It was dark. She pulled one of the old wooden rockers with her, then tucked her feet under her as she curled up in it, wrapping her poncho tight around herself. It was cold, to be sure. But she’d bear it. The cold was preferable to the wild feelings of grief and loss coursing through her. She longed for the cold to numb her. She closed her eyes, and there in the silence and quiet of the front porch, unseen by anyone, she let the silent tears fall.

  ****

 
; That’s where Ben found her. He had grabbed his jacket from his office when he hadn’t found Daisy in her classroom, and headed out the door. What was he going to do? Chase her down the street? Follow her in a bus to her house? He had no logical idea. He was just pulled to the door, and once on the porch, peering into the darkness, he had seen her blond hair peeking out from her poncho as she was curled up in the rocking chair in the far dark corner of the porch.

  He wasted no time, gratitude flowing hot through his veins , so relieved Daisy wasn’t out roaming alone with her pain. He crossed the porch to her, squatting down in front of her rocking chair. She had her feet pulled up under her, her poncho wrapped tight around her to ward off the cold. He put his hands on her knees, and leaned close. He could smell the sweet flowery scent he had come to know as hers. Up close, even in the darkness of the porch, he could again see the tracks of her tears down her cheeks. Sorrow wracked his heart. He felt like he had caused this. He put his mouth close to her ear.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his words barely above a breath. “I really didn’t understand just how hard Christmas is for you. But I won’t forget. Please forgive me, Daisy.”

  She lifted her head and gazed at him, eyes still troubled but now soft.

  “I’m ok, Ben,” she said in a small voice. “There’s nothing to forgive. You sure didn’t cause this. I knew this would be hard. But it’s for the kids. I just thought I could handle it better.”

  He put out a hand, and stroked her hair. “Well, no more. You don’t have to do a thing more. We’ll figure out a way. You don’t have to do this.”

  She was silent for a long moment. He could see her thinking, see her furrowed brow, the way she bit her bottom lip when deep in concentration. He knew her, he marveled, even after knowing her only a few short months. But he hadn’t fully realized the depth of her pain and grief. Until now.