Mary’s Son

by Nyznyk, Darryl

  Jared stopped at Nicholas’s side. As an officer moved to grab him, Detective Phillips motioned him to stop. Nicholas’s cuffs suddenly disappeared, and he smiled at the boy. He threw one free arm around Sarah, who smiled at Jared. The boy turned slowly to face the massive crowd.

  “He didn’t hurt us. He didn’t do anything except show us…show us both that we were wrong.” Jared spoke in a normal tone, and everyone heard every word. Most were bewildered by his words. “This is Christmas. All he was trying to do was show us what it’s all about.”

  He glanced at Nicholas, whose smile encouraged him to continue. “It’s about giving and not being selfish. It’s not about gifts or money or things at all. All of that means nothing. It’s about love. It’s about giving our hearts and souls to others instead of always taking. Can’t you see? This is a birthday…the birthday of the one who wants only that we love each other. That’s the only gift any of us ever needs,” Jared concluded.

  “Where did he take you?” came a voice from the crowd.

  Jared smiled and said, “You won’t believe it. He took us to Bethlehem.… We saw the first Christmas. We saw the baby Jesus.”

  A shocked murmur crescendoed through the crowd when another voice shouted, “Who is this guy?”

  Jared smiled again and bowed his head for a moment. His own sister shouted the answer, “He’s Santa Claus.”

  Amanda ran to her brother and grabbed him in a hug as the boy smiled and repeated, “He’s Santa Claus.”

  Jared and Amanda turned to Nicholas. He embraced them both.

  “Thank you, my boy,” he said.

  Nicholas took Amanda’s hand on the one side and Sarah’s on the other while Jared took Amanda’s other hand in his. Together they turned to the crowd.

  “Please…all of you…listen to these children…and remember,” said Nicholas. “They know the truth.” He turned to his companions. “Remember well and remind all others.” He then looked back out on the crowd. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…this is Christmas Eve, and I have a lot of work to do.” With an impish grin, he disappeared.

  - 14 -

  Sarah woke Christmas morning to a bright sun. On Christmases past, she was usually the first to rise, scurry downstairs, and demand that everyone watch as she opened the stacks of gifts under the tree. This Christmas was different. She expected nothing under the tree because she knew she’d already received her gift…a gift she would never forget for a day she would always remember.

  As for the clothes, electronics, and other items she and Stevens had purchased at a time that seemed so long ago, she and Stevens had wrapped them and taken them to the Penford Children’s Home the previous evening. They had left Mr. Johnson grateful again and with a promise that they would return Christmas day with her father in tow.

  When Sarah did accompany her father downstairs, it was not to open gifts but rather to wish all in the house a Merry Christmas and to hurry Stevens and a Miss Grundick in their preparations to join Jonas and Sarah at Christmas morning services.

  Outside, Stevens stepped lightly around the Stones’ automobile. He opened each door and smiled as he awaited his passengers.

  Jonas issued last minute instructions to the household staff for Christmas dinner preparations for the guests who would join them that evening. It was an unusual guest list by the Stones’ traditional standards, but it was a guest list that would be magical, in Sarah’s estimation. It included Sarah’s new friends, Jared Roberts and his family.

  When it was time to leave, Miss Grundick was standing in the foyer, smiling broadly. Gone was the pinched face and severe hairdo for which she had been known. Both were replaced by the Myra Grundick appearance and childish whimsy Nicholas had so fondly remembered.

  “You look happy, Miss Grundick,” Sarah said.

  “I am, Sarah,” she said and pointed into the library. “I think this is for you.”

  On a shelf of one of the bookcases stood a two-foot wide wooden base upon which was the most intricate and brightly colored wood-carved Nativity scene anyone had ever seen. Sarah could actually recognize Mary and Joseph in the features of the wood characters. Yet what was most moving was that in place of shepherds surrounding the baby Jesus, there knelt three other characters. One was a tuxedoed Santa Claus, the second was a young boy in a hooded sweatshirt, and the third was a young blond girl in a party dress. Protruding from beneath the nearest corner of the sculpture was a note. It read, “Merry Christmas, Sarah. Never Forget. Love, Nicholas.”

  Sarah hugged Miss Grundick tightly for the first time in her life, and together they were escorted out the door by Jonas Stone.

  Jonas and his companions noticed immediately that Stevens was in animated conversation with Tom Burns. Behind Burns stood an unsmiling Mr. Kagumo and two of his business associates, all of Mokai, Ltd. They were dressed in dark suits that contrasted painfully with the brightness of the day.

  Sarah’s immediate reaction to the sight was hesitation, but Jonas didn’t miss a beat.

  “Ah, Tom…Mr. Kagumo, Merry Christmas!”

  “Oh…yeah…Merry Christmas, Jonas,” said Tom with some anxiety. He sidled up to Jonas, took his arm, and said, “Look, do you have a couple minutes?”

  “It’s Christmas, Tom. Shouldn’t you be home with your family?”

  When Tom didn’t smile but looked furtively between Jonas and Kagumo, Jonas nodded to relieve Tom’s pressure, and said, “What’s the problem?”

  “Can we go inside?” asked Tom.

  “There’s no need for that,” said Jonas.

  “Mr. Kagumo is leaving for Tokyo. We’ve got the deal, if we want it…” he whispered anxiously. “They got nervous when you said you could do the deal without them. We only need a few minutes.”

  Jonas looked at Burns and then at Mr. Kagumo, who stood stiffly with his hands clasped in front of himself and his chin aimed slightly up. Sarah looked sadly at her father, who didn’t lose his smile.

  “Look, Tom…Mr. Kagumo…I’ve thought a lot about this deal. I think your main office was correct, Mr. Kagumo. It won’t work. I’m not interested in it anymore,” Jonas said before taking Sarah’s hand and escorting her to the car. It was painful for Jonas to let the deal go, yet he knew it was right. His business would survive nicely without it, and he had something more important to occupy his time…a daughter he loved. “You have a nice trip home, Mr. Kagumo. And you, Tom…have a great Christmas…Now, we’ve got a date at church and then some business of our own to attend.”

  Jonas and Sarah ran to the car with Miss Grundick, leaving a gawking Burns and Mr. Kagumo in their wake.

  AMANDA stood in the hall, gripping her sisters’ hands while the two younger girls strained to pull away. When she could hold them no longer, the twins broke free and ran to the Christmas tree, beneath which was a small treasure pile of brightly wrapped boxes. Amanda watched the girls, concerned that they would open gifts before the entire family was ready, but her concern disappeared when she noticed what else was near the tree—hidden, actually, around to the back.

  As Mary arrived with Billie under one arm, Amanda’s face spread into a huge smile. She whispered, “He brought it, Momma!”

  Amidst the wrapped gifts was a shiny red two-wheel mountain bike with oversized tires, a water bottle, and a rack for anything Amanda might need to carry. Jared joined them and sported a wide smile. No longer was his face tight and angry…no longer were his eyes suspicious. He was at peace as he watched the younger kids tear into their gifts.

  Mary turned to Jared, when there was a knock at the front door.

  “I’ll get it.” Jared left the room as Mary smiled her thanks.

  Standing before him was the second magnificent gift he was receiving this Christmas. “Dad?” he whispered in shock.

  Jared’s father put a finger to his lips to shush his son. He reached in to hug the boy, who responded warmly before he led his dad into the living room, where Mary and the kids were concentrating on gifts.

  “Merry C
hristmas, Mary,” Joe Roberts said softly.

  They all turned in shock at the sound of Joe’s resonant voice. Amanda shouted, “Daddy!”

  Joe was busy hugging all the kids as Mary stood, stunned. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over to her cheeks. “Joe, you’re back,” she whispered. “Oh, you’re back.” She ran to him and embraced him.

  “I’m so sorry, Mary,” Joe stammered. Mary pulled away slightly but held onto her husband before asking, “What happened, Joe?”

  “I was scared, but… I had a dream,” he responded hesitantly. “A little fat man…Santa Claus… told me everything would be all right. I cried my eyes out…I prayed.”

  He stared down at her, pleadingly, as tears filled his eyes. She smiled and leaned into another hug. There would be time for answers and healing later, she thought. Joe’s home.

  Jared stepped up and took them both in a hug as the younger kids became entangled at their feet.

  AT the Penford Children’s Home, Mr. Johnson stared open-mouthed at the check in his left hand. He tried not to blink for fear the check and the amount reflected on it would disappear. When he finally did look up at Jonas, he could say nothing. He simply grabbed Jonas’s hand and shook it with a force and speed that rocked Jonas’s entire body. Jonas smiled broadly and tried to withdraw his hand before his arm was pulled out of joint by Mr. Johnson’s exuberance.

  “This is only the beginning, Mr. Johnson,” Jonas said when he was finally free. “We’ll help you organize your fund-raising campaign for the New Year.”

  Mr. Johnson could only gawk until tears came to his eyes. Jonas tried to keep talking so Mr. Johnson would not grab his hand again and do some real damage.

  “My daughter told me about the wonderful work you were doing here and about the help you needed.”

  Mr. Johnson turned to Sarah. He tried to compose himself. “Thank you, Sarah,” he said. Then his smile brightened even more. “It’s lucky you came here today for another reason. Little Julia wanted to show you something.”

  Mr. Johnson motioned a teary-eyed nurse to bring Julia into the entry hall. After a short time, the little girl bounced into the hall, wearing Sarah’s coat.

  “Merry Christmas, Julia,” said Sarah.

  “Santa Claus came…and…” she paused and looked around anxiously, “um…look…Greggy.”

  Sarah and Stevens glanced quizzically at each other, when suddenly Greggy walked slowly into the room, a huge smile on his face. He clutched the Nativity globe Sarah had given him.

  “Greggy…you’re walking,” Sarah whispered.

  She ran to him and grabbed the little boy in an enormous bear hug. Jonas turned, bewildered, to Mr. Johnson.

  “We woke this morning, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He hasn’t been able to move in years,” Mr. Johnson explained.

  While continuing to hold the boy, Sarah glanced heavenward and whispered, “Thank you for this day.”

  AUTHOR’S AFTERWORD

  On December 17, 1994, Loretta and I threw an eighth birthday party for our third daughter, Julia. Her birthday is December 24th, but, for obvious reasons, we usually had friend-birthday celebrations either a few days before or after the actual date.

  On this particular birthday, we hosted eight seven- and eight-year-olds, in addition to Julia and two of our other three daughters, to dinner and cake at a raucous Hawaiian restaurant, a movie, and much hilarity. By that night, Loretta and I were exhausted although none of the girls showed any signs that their night was at an end. Nevertheless, within half an hour, we’d gotten the birthday celebrants into pajamas and gotten sleeping bags spread throughout our family room.

  As I stood in front of the fireplace and the fire I had just kindled, surveying the chaos and only imagining what was yet to come, I had a vision of storytelling around a campfire. Since we hadn’t done much camping in our lives, I hadn’t had firsthand knowledge of such events. But I’d heard about them. I’d heard that a good rip-snorting fireside story was just the tonic for the roiling mass of eight-year-old exuberance that was about ready to explode before me. Although I had no hope it would actually work, I asked if they wanted to hear a Christmas story about some people who had actually seen Santa Claus. To my surprise and Loretta’s obvious relief, they all shouted, “Yes!”

  Back row, L to R: Hannah (mouth open), Kelly, Julia, Wendy, Santa, Kaitlin, Kendall. Front row, L to R: Autumn, Meg, Alex, Jeana.

  And so it was that Mary’s Son, known only by me at the time under some long-forgotten title, was first heard. Loretta dimmed the lights. I sat on the fireplace’s hearth, the flames warming my back, and told the story.

  For nearly forty-five minutes, I sat before these kids gesticulating and shouting, whispering and conspiring, and ultimately performing as best I could. They were enthralled.

  To this day, I don’t know if all those girls believed the story. I know from parents’ comments and from Julia herself that several did.

  When one of the girls asked me if the story was really true, I responded softly, “I don’t know for sure. But I know the people who were in the story. They told me these things happened, and I believe them.”

  Now you, dear reader, might ask me the same question, and my answer would be that some of the story is true, and some of the story is not. But whether it’s true is not the real issue; for it is not the facts that matter but rather the message of love that comes from the truth of the birth of Jesus Christ. It is a love of all humankind…a love so genuine…so true…that if all people simply spend a few minutes every day pondering and living it, there would be a peace so profound in the world that pain, suffering, strife, and discord would cease to exist entirely.

  I wish you Peace on Earth…Goodwill to All…and above all, I wish you Merry Christmas all your days.