The Very Name of Christmas

by Martiele Sidles

  The front room was much as he remembered it from the night before: warm, shadowed and calm. The little clock ticked quietly, the fire burned merrily behind the fireguard, the tiny Christmas tree shining and gilded in the firelight. The only other sound was the soft breathing of Albert, with a soft blanket, soundly asleep on the large velvet divan, his head wrapped in bandages.

  Tim closed the door behind him, crossed the room to stand over Albert's sleeping body and watched the young boy closely. He stooped to check the boy's pulse but stood abruptly and moved to the window.

  Drawing the drapes, he stood watching the dark fog-filled street. Tableau after tableau succeeded each other in brilliant clarity on the empty street: himself being carried on his father's shoulders, both of them smiling and laughing; the shining faces of his brothers and sisters on cold Christmas mornings; his first welcome glimpse of the hospital in Edinburgh, the matron taking his hand in hers; his fierce face defending his family from what he thought was Scrooge's criticism; his happy Graduation Day and his mother's tears of joy; his first day on Great Ormond Street's wards; his initial meeting with Julianne; the day he asked her to be his wife; Uncle Ebenezer's smiling face; Albert throwing snowballs in the park; his own face listening to Scrooge's spirit saying softly, "... the fruit of the Spirit is love."

  Tim thought about love, the Old City, the children of the Old City; about his gift and its usefulness to the Old City. But mostly he thought about love.

  He began to understand that Love is freely given and must be freely accepted, that all his splendid plans must be based on loving others first and not his need to love. He realized his obsession with service and that he had first served his own selfishness rather than the true needs of others. He recognized the great arrogance in his determinations to overrule Deity's purpose by refusing to believe that he could not save every patient he treated. He perceived his anger at a world that progressed slowly, that suppressed its members in favor of greed and gain. He finally acknowledged that Ambition had placed him outside the Society whose approbation he sought. He had thought himself "wise in his own conceits," but now he resolved to change both his heart and his head for the sake of love, the love of his patients, his family and friends, his Julianne, and even of himself and his profession. He knew now that compassion, charity and service came from the love that grew within a man's heart from understanding and acceptance of the divine purposes for men, not from the ambitious purposes of men.

  One small part of the plan, one great effort to further the plan, this was his calling, this was the business of Mankind, and that by love and compassion, by charity and service, he might further the divine plan, by aiding and giving succor to the other small but equally valuable participants of the plan. All individuals are valuable, and to each is given the gift that is most useful to himself and others. If all men and women did their part, with goodwill and a committed spirit, then every other man, woman and child would be enriched beyond measure, though one must never usurp or suppress the character and efforts of another by sheer strength of will or conceit.

  Mankind was indeed his business, but it was his part to love and serve only by dint of compassion, kindness and knowledge. All have a value to God, and all must work out their own lives without interference from anyone. He could intervene with love and understanding, never by coercion, but offering with an open hand.

  There was time; he had all the time in the world to do all that he needed to do. God would see to it. He would serve man for man's sake, and God would help him in this service. Love was indeed the answer after all was said and done.

  As he leaned his head against the cold windowpane, the world outside the window became a blurry splotch of gray. A great sigh escaped him, and while he could still feel the coldness of the windowpane against his forehead, he felt a great warmth begin to spread throughout his frame. It began at his feet and moved quickly upward to his chest. His feet and hands tingled, and when his eyes refocused outside, he saw his mother, arm-in-arm with his father and Ebenezer Scrooge, laughing up at him. He raised his hand to wave, but before his did so, three of the dearest people he had ever known lifted their faces and called, "Happy Christmas, dear son, a very Happy Christmas to you. Fare you well." And then they were gone.

  A smile lit Tim's face from the inside out. He felt light of heart and light of foot. He stood still for a moment to decide just how he felt inside, and then he laughed and laughed and laughed. The sound grew and swelled to fill the air around him, and still he laughed. Albert stirred sleepily and sat up rubbing his eyes.

  "Mr. Tim, is that you? I waited ever so long after Mr. Jonathan brought me back. I guess I just couldn't keep my eyes open." Tim continued laughing, only more gently and quietly, his eyes watering. Albert watched the young man solemnly. "Didn't think this would happen; he's gone quite crackers. I wonder what happened to him last evening?"

  Deeply concerned and greatly puzzled, the boy sat still, focusing his eyes on the merry young doctor.

  Long moments later, the laughter subsided to great smiles and twinkling eyes. Tim, rubbing his ribs, chuckled rather breathlessly, "Oh my, Albert, I haven't done that in longer than I can clearly remember. My ribs are sore." He sat down carefully on the divan beside the young boy, reaching out to touch the bandages around his forehead. "How came you by this decoration? You said that Jonathan brought you back. Did you mean from Great Ormond Street? How are you feeling now?"

  Tim lifted Albert's wrist and checked his pulse, then felt the young boy's face and peered into his eyes. "You look fine and seem right enough. Well, young sir, are you well?" He unconsciously echoed Ebenezer's salutation.

  Albert sat a moment and then, questioning himself, answered, "Good morning, sir, are you well yourself? You acted just like a simpleton a bit ago." Tim nodded, still smiling.

  "Well, then, I'd best tell my story straight out. I was on my way to doing your errands and was feeling happy as a lark. But I didn't watch the street the way I do and was careless about putting your blunt in my pocket. Three bully boys were watching me after I left you and followed me. They pushed me into an alley, bashed me from behind and took all you gave me. I'd not even got to the coalman, it was that quick." The boy's outrage showed clearly in his eyes and in his tightened fists. Even as Tim watched, his eyes cleared and his head tilted to one side like a little brown sparrow.

  "I don't know how long I stayed in that alley, sir, but when I next opened my eyes, I saw a kind lady near my bed, a hospital Matron and a doctor young as you. Come to find out, it was Mr. Jonathan, your friend. They didn't know who I was, but they knew I knew you because they found your card tucked into my glove. Mr. Jonathan stitched me up, wrapped my ribs and put this here on my head." He pointed to his bandages. "Did a good job too; didn't hurt hardly at all. When he was done, he asked me if I felt like coming back here or staying in hospital. Well, sir, I was on my feet right now, unsteady though they were! After we got here, Mr. Jonathan gave me some syrup from a brown bottle and tucked me up. Here's where I've been since. Then I heard you laughing and thought I'd better see to you. I wouldn't want you taking ill on Christmas Day!" Brown eyes met green, puzzled and questioning still.

  "Christmas Day? asked Tim. "It IS Christmas Day. Uncle Ebenezer was right. Christmas Day. Christmas Day. There IS magic in the very name of Christmas, the magic of moving outside oneself and entering into the cheer and goodwill of others, a magic combination if ever there was one." He stood up. "Albert, with all my heart I am glad to know that your injuries, while painful, are no worse than they are. Shall you rest longer or are you fit for action? It IS Christmas Day, after all is said and done."

  "I think I've had enough rest for now, though I could eat a bite or two, I feel that good."

  "Mrs. Tompkins will be along soon enough with our breakfast, so I'll just go in and wake Jonathan. I'm certain he'd not want to miss all the fun. You just rest there, and I'll get the lazybones out of bed. By then our Mrs. Tompkins ought to be here. She always brings us a
special Christmas breakfast, earlier than usual so that she can begin her own preparations for the festive day."

  Albert sat back, pulled the blankets up to his chin and contentedly watched the fire flame into reds and blues and greens.

  Tim picked up two fat cushions from the other end of the divan and advanced merrily into Jonathan's bedroom. Albert heard muffled groans, the thump of two neatly aimed cushions and then dull, scuffling sounds. Loud laughter followed quickly, and a smiling Tim came through the doorway, his hair ruffled and his neckwear mussed.

  "That got him up," he laughed. "He'll be with us as soon as he attends to his finicky dressing habits." As Tim raised his voice on the last words, a fat cushion came sailing through the doorway to land at his feet.

  "You missed that one, Doctor. I hope your patients are luckier than that." A second pillow followed, striking Tim smartly on the back of his head.

  "Touché," cried Tim." That one found its mark." He cackled again just as a knock sounded on the door behind him. He opened the door to a smiling Mrs. Tompkins and her son, both beaming with Christmas cheer.

  "A Happy Christmas to you, Mr. Timothy, to you, young man, and to you, Mr. Bartlett." She smiled as Jonathan sauntered in from his room, buttoning his coat. "I've done you proud this Christmas morning, that I have. You've got eggs and kippers, ham and beefsteak, fresh scones and my own special quince jam, tea and toast and a tiny plum pudding for a sweet. Now sit straight down and tuck right in." She motioned to her son to set his tray on the tea table and placed her own lavish tray next to his.

  "Good morning to you, gentlemen, and a very happy Christmas to you all." As she turned to go, Tim laid a hand on her arm. He reached into his pocket and then slipped what he had found there into her hand.

  "Buy yourself a lovely blue ribbon to match your wonderful eyes, kind Mrs. Tompkins," he said, kissing her soundly on her rosy cheek. "Away with you, lad, your Christmas breakfast is fast cooling! How much work does a poor woman need to do to have it appreciated and then to let it grow cold, " she fussed at Tim, smiling all the while. "God bless you, young man," she said, patting his cheek, her eyes twinkling. "Now I must be off to my own breakfast, or the eggs will cook over." She herded her son out the door and closed it quietly behind her.

  "Well, men," counseled Tim, "we'd better eat now and sustain ourselves for the morning's activities. I have lots of Christmas plans for us all." Both Albert and Jonathan sat to table, picked up their napkins and began to fill their plates. Tim seated himself, took a deep breath and began to eat as well. For the first few minutes not a sound was heard but the clanking of cutlery and the thumping of plates.

  Jonathan, his first pangs of hunger assuaged, looked at Tim across the table and inquired, "Well Dr. Cratchit, what have you on your calendar this fine Christmas morning? I spy an imp behind your eyes that hasn't been seen there in many weeks. What is our course of action?" He stopped briefly, stared intently at his friend, and added softly, "Tim, old fellow, are you well? I'm very glad to see you in this happy humor, but are you well?" Their eyes locked across the table.

  Tim replied smiling, "Never better, old friend, never better. If the truth be told, I'm better than I have been in a very long time. Thanks to Uncle Ebenezer and his musty old accounting books. Perhaps sometime I'll tell you all, but for now let us finish this extravagant repast and formulate our plan of action for this most splendid of Christmas mornings." Seeing Jonathan's concerned face, Tim added quietly, "`Tis true, Jonathan, all is well. Never fear for me, all is well. I've resolved the intensity of my life and the tenor of my days, and the confusion is past. I am well, and I thank you for your concern. So then, are you both finished? Good. Let's plan."

  Placing his napkin on the table, Tim stood and moved to the divan. "Well, men," he declared, "now this is the way I see our day falling out. First, we shall all go over to Great Ormond Street to help support the nursing sisters at the children's Christmas party. We'll give out the presents, jolly the children along and help with the Christmas cake. Sir Humphrey, Dr. Jenner and the rest of the staff have made quite a collection of toys, garnered from monies gathered from local tradesmen, although I do think that the doctors have contributed the greater part. I know where Matron has left a large bag of Christmas crackers, and I believe that Dr. Wells will be appearing as Father Christmas. Let's stop at Borden's, the costumer, to see if we can find Father Christmas hats for all the staff to wear. Might make things a bit more festive. What say you?" Jonathan, mouth agape, stared at Tim blankly, then shook himself and nodded vigorously. Head cocked sideways like the little sparrow he resembled, Albert first looked perplexed, but as the situation began to unfold in his mind, he smiled hugely.

  "I think," he said, "that Mr. Jonathan and I would be honored to help with the children's Christmas." Jonathan took out a small pocket notebook and made rapid squiggles on a fresh page. He looked at Tim and queried laughingly, "What's next on the list, old fellow? I suspect this will be the best of all Christmases. It's a magic time for children, after all."

  "We'd best save the Nevins celebration until the last. I believe we are still invited for Christmas dinner at four o'clock, and we shall be in attendance with brandy and flowers and whatever else we can think to bring. I've some explaining to do, but that does not involve either of you two gentlemen. So on to other things. After all the children are happy with their presents and stuffed with a surfeit of cake and other sweet confections, we shall present ourselves on Albert's street so that we might follow the delivery man upstairs to his flat. We shall bring our own festivities with us. Does this meet with your approval, Albert?" Turning to face the young boy seated near him, he studied a face carefully weighing his opinions: should he take the doctors to his home where everything was less than sparse, or should he keep them away for fear of what their eyes might see? Albert took a deep breath, straightened his back and thought about his mother. She kept everything as neat as a new pin, although that "everything" was not very much. He was proud of her and of his brothers, and he knew she would want to meet the man who had been so kind to them all. Certain sure, they didn't live fancy, but they would someday, and then good men like these would not be concerned with his poor beginnings. He never did want charity, just an opportunity to better himself in the world and a place to work for his family.

  "Sir," said Albert, "you've been so good to me that I think Mam would be proud and happy to meet you. My mam is a kind lady, and my brothers would be agog, and no mistake. I'd be proud to take you, sir, whenever you find yourself ready to go." He held out his hand to Tim, who clasped it with a solemn look and with a man-to-man pressure. Albert, who understood the gesture as being between men-of-the-world, applied matching pressure and then bypassed the whole thing by giggling like the young boy he was.

  Laughing merrily himself, Tim swung round to Jonathan, "Take note, my good fellow, Albert's home is next on that list you are making."

  Jonathan noted the entry into his book and raised his left eyebrow, "And then?" he asked, laughter and inquiry well-mixed in his voice. "And then," said Tim, who could not keep from smiling, "it's off to my sister's with sweets for the children and gifts for Mother, my sister and her husband, with thanks to Julianne for the purchase and wrapping of these gifts some weeks ago. She said she'd never let me go there empty-handed on Christmas Day, and she knew then that I would never take the time for such purchases. God bless her! Now, did you note that down, Jonathan?

  After that we shall make haste to the Nevins home, laden with gifts and holiday cheer. I sincerely hope that Sir Humphrey lives up to his reputation for a grand and wonderful table, for I think we shall be the epitome of the starving young doctors he is always talking about during rounds."

  He sighed, looking distressed. "And then I shall try to make amends with Julianne; I only hope she can find it within her to forgive my foolishness and irresponsible behavior." Looking up, he found two pair of solemn eyes gazing back at him.

  Tim stared back, sensing their love and con
cern, and smiled once more. "But that's for later, not now, and nothing shall deter us from our Christmas plans. Albert, you are welcome to attend at my sister's home, but then I think we shall turn the carriage right around and take you back home for your family's Christmas celebration. We can plan for your future the day after Boxing Day. I shall need to do some prudent ‘fishing’ in the pond of Sir Humphrey's acquaintances. I think perhaps young Mr. Fezziwig shall be my first cast. Now tell me you approve."

  Albert nodded vigorously, "Sounds about right to me, sir. It's a good Christmas plan, and while I know I'll be putting you to a great deal of trouble, I won't say no to you." Once more Albert held out his hand, gratitude and joy plain on his face. Once more Tim clasped it strongly and covered both with his other hand.

  "It will be a good day's work, Albert, and while you might think I am doing this solely for your advantage, I should tell you straightaway that I've got the Old City's interests at heart, for I think someday both the city and I will owe you an immeasurable debt of gratitude. I should like to be in at the beginning of it, and Uncle Ebenezer would, too.

  “Never fear, Albert, you shall have all the support behind you that you might need, and sometime in both our futures we shall sit down with Jonathan and Adam Fezziwig, making plans for children's shelters and children's clinics and children's trade schools and the like. I think the four of us, with the greatest will in the world, can find the best use for Uncle Ebenezer's legacy. Well now, gentlemen, I seem to have filled the air with my ramblings, and rather than remove all the good sense from the room, and with your good wishes, I think we should be off." A deep breath came first, and with a smile of infinite cheer and warmth, Tim headed towards the door.

  With much laughter and coats and gloves and scarves thrown here and there, the three young men, with Jonathan bearing Mrs. Tompkins' trays, went down the stairs to the landlady's door. A knock or two brought that same lady to the door, flushed with cooking, her fine eyes sparkling.