by Anna Schmidt
In a couple of hours, the hall would be filled with their guests sitting at tables, singing carols, joining in some simple word games that Molly had insisted were part of any party, and enjoying their Christmas dinner. By sundown it would all be over, and tomorrow she would be packing up the last of her things and preparing to head for the airport. It seemed like only yesterday that she and Max had started seeing each other. Yet in some ways it felt as if she and Max had always had a connection, even in all the years when she doubted either one of them had given much thought to the other.
The outside entrance to the basement opened, bringing with it a blast of cold fresh air as Molly announced, “We’re here! And guess what, Sarah!”
“What?”
“My bestest Christmas present? I’m getting a baby sister—or maybe a brother.” She didn’t seem too sure about the idea of a brother.
Sarah looked up as Grace and Jack entered the room followed by Marilyn and Mike, Marilyn’s parents, Karen Wolzak, and finally Max. “Is it true?” Sarah whispered as she relieved Grace of a box of supplies.
“It’s true,” Grace replied, cradling the bump below her waist.
Molly clapped her hands to gain everyone’s attention and started handing out assignments. “Dad, you and Uncle Max are the greeters. Nana, Marilyn, and Papa Mike, you can serve along with Mom and Sarah. Gramma Karen will be in charge in the kitchen.”
“And you?” Max asked.
“I’ll float around and make sure everything is going exactly as we planned.” She did a little twirl and then grinned. “Do you like my outfit, Sarah?” She turned to show off the green velvet dress over white tights and black patent shoes.
“Very festive,” Sarah agreed.
“You look pretty too—doesn’t she, Uncle Max?”
And there it was, the unmistakable moment when they had to make eye contact for the first time since their parting the night before. “She always looks beautiful, Molly.” His eyes locked on her face, and yet she could not read his thoughts any more clearly than she had been able to the night before.
Molly heaved a sigh. “Well, I know that, Max, but today is special.”
Max glanced at his niece and then back at Sarah. “That’s a lovely dress, Sarah,” he said and then checked with Molly for her approval.
“Better—not great,” she said, rolling her eyes at Sarah as if between the two of them they understood that boys in general were clueless. Then she headed for the kitchen, calling out to her mother to come help her with the cookies and leaving Sarah and Max standing alone in the church hall.
Above them the organ music flourished into the prelude for the service.
“Looks like Molly’s got everything under control down here,” Max said. “I was thinking I’d like to attend the service. Would you like to come with me?”
Sarah accepted his invitation for the olive branch that it was. “Love to,” she said.
Upstairs they took seats in the last pew closest to the exit. Sarah was both surprised and touched to see so many people filling the church. Not all of them were homeless, she realized as she watched whole families enter the sanctuary and take their seats. Furthermore the street people had clearly made every effort to look their best for the occasion. A woman next to Sarah wore a pillbox hat reminiscent of Jackie Kennedy’s style and a pair of white cotton gloves. In front of them sat three men of various ages, all with that ruddy look and damp hair of the recently showered.
Reverend Baker had just called for the congregation to rise for the first hymn. Max opened the hymnal to the page and held the book so that he and Sarah could share. It was only natural to move a step closer to him. Their shoulders touched as Max balanced the hymnal on one large open palm and placed his other hand loosely around her waist.
Following the hymn, the minister called for a moment of friendship. The street people looked a little confused until they saw members of the congregation turning to one another to greet them. The three men in front of Max and Sarah turned and offered tentative smiles. Max stuck out his hand as Sarah turned to greet the woman on her right. And suddenly there were no strangers in the gathering. Everyone was exchanging a handshake or a wish for a merry Christmas until Reverend Baker tapped the pulpit to call everyone back to worship.
The friendship ritual was followed by a period of silent prayer that ended with the Lord’s Prayer and then a second hymn. And as the service progressed, Sarah felt her heart swell with gladness and hope. Gladness that she was a part of this incredible moment. Hope for the futures of these desperate people. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for her to take hold of Max’s hand. He linked his fingers with hers, and they stayed that way until the sermon ended and the last hymn was announced.
“We should go,” Sarah whispered, nodding toward the stairway, and as they made their way back down to the church hall they were still holding hands.
* * * * *
Max was more confused than ever about his feelings for Sarah—and hers for him. It felt so right being with her. He started to pull her aside when they reached the downstairs hallway that led to the kitchen, but Molly spotted them and came running. “Uncle Max, did you bring the presents?”
“I did. They are all wrapped up and in that shoebox over there, but you are not to touch it, understood? There are some parts of this event where you are not in charge, okay?” He tweaked her nose the way he used to tweak her mother’s and got the exact same reaction.
Molly giggled and pulled away. “Stop that.”
In the meantime he had lost the moment with Sarah. She was in the kitchen laughing with Gramma Karen and the church ladies. She was wearing an apron over the blue dress that matched her eyes, and as always she looked completely at home in her surroundings.
Her surroundings that by this time a couple of days from now will be vastly different.
“Hey, man. Max, was it?” One of the men from the pew in front of them tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m Glen.”
“I remember. How can I help you, Glen?”
“Just wanted to thank you and your missus for everything you’re doing here today. We all get it that this is a one-time deal, but you have no idea what it means to us. So thanks, okay?”
Before Max could say anything or correct the notion that Sarah was his “missus” Glen moved away quickly, pulling out a crumpled bandana handkerchief to blow his nose as he made his way back to the table where his friends were waiting. Just then Reverend Baker moved to the front of the room and clapped his hands for attention. “Let us pray,” he said and then uttered words of thanks for the food and the day and especially for Molly.
And a little child shall lead them, Max found himself thinking.
When the prayer ended, the minister raised his head, smiled broadly, and said, “Well, folks, shall we get this party started?”
For the next couple of hours, the hall was alive with conversation, laughter, and the smells of fresh evergreens and wonderful food. The street people took to Molly’s games—which her mother and Max had thought might bomb—as if they were having the time of their lives. When the woman who had sat next to Sarah during the service began playing the piano, everyone gathered around for a songfest of popular songs of the season—“Rudolph” and “Frosty” and “Jingle Bells” . . . they sang them all. And Max and Sarah just naturally seemed to find their way to each other’s side.
As the group started the verse for “Let It Snow,” it was obvious that the weather outside had indeed turned frightful. There was no snow. Instead it was a downpour of cold rain that seemed to have set in for the evening.
“We can’t send them out in this,” Sarah said softly.
“Maybe by the time we serve dessert and coffee and give out the presents . . .” Gramma Karen suggested.
“The weather report is for this to keep up all night and well into tomorrow,” Max said. “Let me see what I can do.”
Gramma Karen looked at him as if he had suddenly lost his mind. “About the weath
er? Max, I really don’t think—”
“About them,” Max corrected as he nodded toward their guests.
He signaled for Reverend Baker and one or two of the church elders to join him in the kitchen. When Sarah followed them, Max had to smile. The woman was not to be denied when it came to taking care of those less fortunate . . . it was one of the reasons he loved her.
* * * * *
Sarah heard the end of Max’s question to the church leaders and could not believe her ears.
“. . . shelter them for the night right here?”
The responses from the elders were immediate—and negative. The words precedent and liability were the centerpieces of their arguments. She did notice that Reverend Baker maintained his silence as he listened to each speaker.
“But to send them out in that downpour,” Max argued. “It’s almost like telling them this whole event has been nothing more than a show.”
“Hey, plenty of people here gave up their own Christmas Day for this,” one man argued. “If those people expect—”
Sarah stepped into the fray. “Those people were invited here, sir. They came with no expectations and they leave with none.”
“And you are?”
“This is Sarah Peterson,” Max said. “She works for the United Nations leading relief missions around the world. If anyone knows about situations like this one it’s Sarah, so I suggest we listen to what she has to say.”
With the spotlight fully on her, Sarah took a moment to send up a silent prayer for the right words to persuade them. “I fully appreciate your concerns,” she began. “What if we agreed to stay overnight and monitor the street people? What if we took full responsibility?”
“Who is ‘we’?” the other elder asked.
“The organizers of this event. Myself, Max here, and his family.” She risked a glance at Max and was relieved to see him nod. “We can work in shifts so that someone you trust is awake through the night. Then first thing tomorrow the people will leave.”
“Rain or no rain?” The man who had been the biggest critic of the idea actually seemed to be considering Sarah’s idea.
“Those will be the ground rules,” she agreed and saw Max smother a smile.
“There are no cots or sleeping bags,” Reverend Baker pointed out.
“But there are chairs—straight-backed of course, but three of them lined up would make a cot as comfortable as any park bench,” Max said. “And I expect this wouldn’t be the first night these folks have slept on a hard floor.”
The minister looked at the two elders. “I know it’s unusual, but it is what we are about, isn’t it? Helping those less fortunate?”
Just then Molly poked her head in through the half-closed door. “Uncle Max,” she said in a stage whisper, “it’s time for the presents.”
“Coming,” Max said before turning back to the church leaders. “So, what’s the decision?”
One by one, the three men nodded. “You folks get yourselves organized for staying the night,” Reverend Baker instructed. “Then I’ll make the announcement and lay down the rules.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Max waited for the three men to leave the room before laying out a schedule. “I’ll ask my folks to take the first shift say until eight while Jack and Grace get Gramma Karen and Molly home. Then, how about you and I cover eight to midnight and then—”
“You should be with your family, Max,” Sarah protested. “I can do this, and Mary and Ned will be back later tonight. I’ll call them to come straight here.”
“I would like to do this, Sarah. More to the point, I would like to do this with you, okay?” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“Okay.”
“Uncle Max, are you coming or not?” Molly was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips.
“Coming.”
* * * * *
There were thirty attendees at the party. To be on the safe side, Max had ordered three dozen of the tokens. The shop had gift-wrapped each one in a small, square, white box tied with a red bow. “Ladies and gentlemen!” Max shouted above the lively conversation filling the hall. “We’re coming to the end of our festivities here for this evening. But it wouldn’t be Christmas without gifts, so your hosts wanted to be sure you had something to carry with you that would remind you of this day—remind you that someone cared, that a seven-year-old girl was far more interested in making sure that you had a good day than she was in anything Santa might have left under her tree.”
All around the room he saw people nodding and smiling and craning their necks to see Molly. Someone started a chant. “Moll-lee! Moll-lee!” And when Max motioned her to come stand with him, everyone stood and applauded, and he was pretty sure that he saw tears in the eyes of those closest to him. He lifted Molly onto the table next to him and handed her the first gift—a box just slightly larger than the rest.
“Molly, I have never been prouder of anyone than I am of you. You have given all of us a lesson in the true meaning of Christmas, and we are very grateful.”
“Can I open the present now?” Molly asked, her fingers poised over the bow.
“Yes.”
The room grew still as Molly untied the bow and opened the box. “It’s a necklace,” she said, holding it up to show them.
“It’s a medal of honor,” Max corrected her. He held out his hand, and when she gave him the necklace he fastened it around her neck.
“Like the ones you got when you were a soldier?”
“Just like that,” Max assured her, and he stepped back and gave her a sharp salute.
Once again the room erupted into applause and cheers.
“And now if Molly will help me pass out these boxes, we have remembrances for each of you. We hope you will carry this token with you as you continue the challenging journey you face every day.”
Quickly the gifts were distributed and the room grew still once again as everyone opened their little box and removed the coin-like token with the inscription that read Christmas with the date on one side and featured a shooting star on the other.
“And now I’d like to turn things over to Pastor Baker for one last announcement and the benediction.”
Outside, the rain pelted the windows and the wind howled, and Max saw several of the street people glance toward the exit, their faces registering their acceptance that all too soon they would have to figure out where they might spend the night. He stepped aside to give the minister the floor, and immediately Sarah came to stand with him.
“They all want to help,” she whispered.
“Good. So my folks will take—”
“No, Max, I mean everyone wants to help—the choir members, the church volunteers, your family, everyone. Mary and Ned are on their way back from Connecticut and plan to come straight here.”
It was at that very moment that Reverend Baker made his announcement. A stunned silence fell over the room. He gave out the terms of the invitation as the news slowly began to sink in. No smoking or drinking. No loud or unruly behavior. Leave at first light. Respect for the premises. “You are in a house of God,” Baker reminded them. “I’m afraid this is a one-time offer, ladies and gentlemen. We are not set up to be a shelter, but this is a very special night and we will not turn you away.”
A woman broke down in tears of relief. Several people stepped forward to shake the minister’s hand and thank him. And once the benediction had been given, without hesitation every one of the street people worked in tandem with Sarah and the other volunteers clearing away the remains of the party—gathering trash, folding and storing the tables, sweeping the floor—whatever needed to be done.
Max stood off to one side watching Sarah. She was facing a long flight the next day, and yet here she was looking as fresh and vibrant as she had hours before when he’d first arrived.
“Hey,” he said as she passed him on her way to the kitchen. “With all this support, how about you go on home and get a good night’s sleep?”
“I can sleep on the plane tomorrow,” she said. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Do you understand how grateful the folks are for what you’ve done?”
“What we’ve done—we make a good team.”
She studied him closely for a long moment. “I tried to tell you that a few days ago,” she finally said. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Max. Sorry. Maybe I am a little tired, but this is where I want to be.”
“No apologies necessary. If you’re sure about staying, then I’m just grateful for the extra time we’ll have before you have to leave.”
She smiled up at him. “Give me a hand setting up these chairs?”
“Lead on, my captain.”
Together they staged the room, setting up chairs for the women at one end and for the men at the other. They were low on food, but there were still several dozen cookies left and there was plenty of tea and decaf coffee, so they made an arrangement of tables between the two sleeping areas and set out the leftovers. Some of the volunteers left, promising to return for their shift as the night wore on. One group of church members had decided to hold an all-night prayer vigil in the church’s small chapel. By the time they had everything arranged, it was dark outside but the rain kept coming.
Max saw Sarah talking to his mother. They were laughing together, and he thought that he had never seen his mother looking more relaxed. She was wearing an apron and holding a broom, and she had pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She looked like a teenager, and he suddenly understood why his father had been smitten with this uptown beauty all those years ago.
“They seem to be hitting it off,” his father said, coming out of the coatroom and nodding toward the two women. “I’m going to take your mother and grandmother home, and then I’ll be back to stand watch with you, okay?”
“We’ve got plenty of help, Dad. Go on home and enjoy what’s left of the evening. I expect there’s still a small package hidden in the tree that Mom has pretended not to find yet?”