Chesler nearly knocked me over trying to get to the Christmas tree in the living room. He just threw his jacket down on the floor of the front hall and took off.
Daddy picked up Chesler’s jacket and hung it on the hall tree and hugged me again. “I’m just so glad you’re okay. Let’s open some presents.” He walked into the living room.
I took off my mittens and stuck them in my left coat pocket. And as I reached into my right coat pocket to pull out my flashlight, something fell from my pocket onto the floor. I picked it up. A book of matches! I ran my fingers over the green cover. Printed in gold letters, it read Haven of Hope. Mr. Josh’s matches.
I just smiled and put the matchbook in my jeans pocket. It was Christmas, the season of miracles, and Mr. Josh had told me everything would turn out good. And it had.
CHAPTER TWENTY
SANTA CLAUS HAD made a stop at the Harding house, and from the looks of the floor around the tree, he emptied his whole sleigh full of gifts right there in our living room. Chesler was at work, and Christmas paper was flying around the room like Granny pitching hay in her barn.
Chesler opened his presents first, jumping up and down when he saw his new cassette player and skates and rod and reel. “Just what I wanted!” He showed off his new skates and asked Uncle Luke to take him skating out at Granny’s. When Uncle Luke and Daddy said the skating would have to wait, Chesler grabbed his new rod and reel. Daddy just nodded and said, “When the snow melts, Chesler.”
So he plugged in the cassette player and started singing Christmas songs at the top of his lungs. I liked watching Chesler be so happy, and I think Daddy did too. As I listened to Chesler sing “Joy to the World,” I rubbed my thumb over the matchbook in my pocket.
“So, Chesler, is there anything under the tree Santa might have left for your sister?”
Chesler looked around and picked up a square box. “This is for you, Kate. It’s wrapped real pretty.” He handed it to me.
I untied the large green ribbon and lifted the lid. My camera. My very own camera.
“And here’s something else, Kate. No, it’s two things.” Chesler lugged over a heavy-looking box and put it on the floor in front of me. Then he put a smaller one on top.
I opened the smaller one first. “A package of watercolor paper.”
Uncle Luke laughed. “Santa Claus must have gotten confused. You can’t put watercolor paper in a camera. You need film.”
“Surely Santa wouldn’t get confused about something like that. Maybe you should open the big one, Kate.” Daddy pushed the large box toward me.
I opened it. On the front was a picture of a drawing table.
Uncle Luke came over to look. “Wow, Kate. You can open your own art studio now. Watercolor paper and a drawing table and a camera.” Uncle Luke picked up my camera. “Look. It’s already got the batteries and film in it. Santa thought of everything. Guess all you have to do now is point and shoot.”
I just smiled at Daddy. “Great! Daddy, you and Uncle Luke and Chesler, go sit in front of the Christmas tree. This will be my very first picture.” Daddy and Uncle Luke sat on the floor shoulder to shoulder, and Chesler sat on their shoulders right between them. “Smile big, you guys.” I snapped the picture.
“Looks like that’s all from Santa, but there’ll be lots more presents when Granny Grace and Aunt Susannah Hope and Uncle Don get here. What time is it?”
Chesler ran to the front hall to look at the grandfather clock. “It’s three after seven.” We knew that meant seven fifteen. That was just Chesler’s way of telling time.
“We’d better get going. Granny’ll be coming in that door about eight o’clock. Luke, you going to get Lisa?”
“I’ll call her and pick her up as soon as she’s ready.”
“Well, let’s get up those stairs and get ready for the day.”
“Wait, a few more pictures. Uncle Luke, you and Chesler roll around in the Christmas paper.” I knew Chesler would like that and I wouldn’t have to tell him to smile. I liked having that camera hanging around my neck and clicking the button on top.
After I finished, Uncle Luke said, “Okay, upstairs, you two.”
I took a shower, dried my hair, and got dressed. I was putting a ribbon around my ponytail when Chesler came running into my room. “Kate, are you sure you’re not mad at me for telling Daddy where you were?”
I tightened the bow around my hair. “I already told you no, Chesler. I’m not mad at you. I’d still be in the church all alone if you hadn’t told him. So I’m not mad.”
“I’m sorry you got stuck at church, but I know you weren’t alone because Mama’s present was gone this morning.” That was the smartest thing my little brother ever said.
Daddy was in the kitchen when Granny and my aunt and uncle arrived. The Christmas mugs were already on the counter. I would use Mama’s this year, and I’d give mine to Aunt Lisa. Mama made it our family tradition to drink hot chocolate with homemade cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. Then we would drink our second cup of hot chocolate around the tree while Grandpa read the real Christmas story. Mama and Grandpa weren’t here this year, but Daddy remembered and made a big pot of real hot chocolate like Mama would have made.
Granny Grace was taking the foil off her warm cinnamon rolls when Uncle Luke and Aunt Lisa walked in. “Merry Christmas, you two. Lisa, we couldn’t be happier to have you in this family.”
I kept clicking the button on my new camera, taking pictures of happy faces when they weren’t looking.
Aunt Susannah Hope handed out Christmas plates with hot cinnamon rolls, and Daddy gave everybody a mug of hot chocolate. When we all had a cup, Granny lifted hers high. “Merry Christmas, everybody. Eat your breakfast. This is it because we’re having a lunch the likes of which you haven’t seen since last Christmas.”
We sat around the table in the kitchen and ate our cinnamon rolls. Everybody was talking, but nobody said a word about last night and my getting locked in the church. I think Uncle Luke told Aunt Lisa, though, because she just looked like she knew something, but she wouldn’t say it.
Granny Grace passed the plate of rolls around again. “Well, for little old ladies like me and for young boys like Chesler and for everybody in between, it’s real important to carry on traditions. And that’s what we’re about to do, so get yourself another cup of hot chocolate and let’s go to the living room.” Granny was in charge again, and we followed her orders.
Uncle Don sat in his favorite spot on the sofa, and Aunt Susannah Hope curled up beside him. Uncle Luke pulled up the straight chair and sat next to the Christmas tree. Aunt Lisa and Chesler and I sat at his feet. We knew that Granny and Daddy would be sitting in the chairs on each side of the fireplace. Daddy held his Bible in his lap, and everybody was talking happy talk, and then Aunt Susannah spoke up.
“I need to tell you all something.”
Everybody hushed. I looked at Daddy, and he had that look like he always has when there’s trouble.
Aunt Susannah Hope looked back at Uncle Don. Her lips almost smiled, but she looked more like she was about to cry. “I know I’ve not been the easiest person to get along with lately, and I know you have been a little worried about me. And Luke, I want to thank you for insisting that I go to the doctor and have some tests.”
Nobody in the room wanted to hear what we thought she was gonna say.
“The doctor says there is absolutely nothing wrong with me.”
Granny looked the most relieved. “Thank God for that, Susannah.”
Aunt Susannah kept talking. “But what he did say is there is something absolutely right with me. When we gather here next Christmas, there will be a new family member along with Lisa.” She paused. “We’re having a baby.”
There was more noise and more hugging going on in that room than when Chesler was opening his presents.
Granny was so happy. “Well, I’d say that’s about the best Christmas present ever. A baby for next Christmas! Fancy that.”
When everybody sat back down, I felt all quiet inside and just looked around the room. Home hadn’t looked so good since Mama went to heaven, but it looked good to me this morning. It didn’t have anything to do with all the presents under the tree or my new camera. But it felt warm like it had a blanket around it, and it smelled like home. I missed Mama at the tree. I missed her singing. And I’d bet Mama would be so happy about the baby she’d still be hugging Aunt Susannah Hope.
Daddy opened up his Bible and started to read from the Book of Luke just like Grandpa used to do. While he was reading, I wondered if they had Christmas trees and presents in heaven, and if Mama and Grandpa were sitting around a great big tree like we were this morning. When Daddy finished reading, Uncle Don prayed. I took one more picture with everybody’s eyes closed. I wanted to remember this.
It was time for presents. Daddy said, “Chesler, now that you can read a little bit, it’s going to be your first Christmas to hand out the presents. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir.” Chesler shouted each name real loud like they wouldn’t know it was their present if he didn’t. He hurried to pass them out so he could start opening the boxes with his name on them.
Christmas wrappings started flying again, and Aunt Susannah Hope was off the sofa and grabbing the Christmas paper as it flew and gathering it up off the floor, but Daddy stopped her. I knew why. Mama liked to see the room covered in paper.
Aunt Lisa did what she promised. She framed and wrapped the sketches of Mama I made for Granny and my aunt. They both had a good cry when they saw the pictures I drew.
Daddy bragged on the fish tray I made him just like Aunt Lisa said he would. Everybody had their laps full of boxes, and the floor was knee-deep in Christmas paper, just like Mama would like it. No more gifts under the tree, and I thought it was time to get ready for church, but Aunt Susannah Hope pulled out two more huge presents from somewhere. Everybody got real quiet again.
She handed one to Chesler and one to me. Her voice sounded like she was going to cry, and I didn’t want to look at her. “This is something your mama wanted you to have. She started it before she went to heaven, and Granny Grace and I finished it so you could have it for Christmas.”
Chesler tore into his box like somebody might take it away him, but I opened mine real careful like, not ripping the tissue. Chesler spread his out all over the floor before I could pull out my very own patchwork quilt. There were pieces of Mama’s pink dress and her favorite blouse with the roses and pieces of my clothes I had outgrown. Granny Grace said it was a memory quilt of Mama’s things and some of our own clothes, even our christening gowns, and they were all stitched together with love just like we were. I held it to my face. It smelled like Mama.
Granny Grace said, “Look in the bottom of the box, Katy. Your mama wanted you to have this too.”
There was a small, pink satin bag with a white ribbon drawstring and a card. I opened the bag first. It was a lock of Mama’s red hair tied with more white ribbon. My heart stopped. Mama and I had thought of the exact same Christmas present! I was thinking like Mama, just like Mr. Josh said I would when I grew up. Now a part of Mama would be with me forever too.
The card was in Mama’s curlicue handwriting.
My sweet Kate, my Katherine Joy,
It’s our first Christmas apart. These gifts are to remind you that I’m always as close as your thoughts of me. This quilt will wrap you in warm memories and my nearness. You were created and born in love, and you’ll forever be my daughter. Be happy, Kate. Be kind to others and be good to yourself. And, Katherine Joy, you be aware of all the wonders that others miss, especially the redbird. I love you. And remember always, faith, family, and forever.
Merry Christmas,
Mama
I put the card and the lock of Mama’s hair back in the bag and ran my hand over the quilt. Then I saw the redbird, the one she had stitched by hand with silk thread on a large white square right in the middle. Mama thought of everything. Christmas didn’t go to heaven when she did.
Before we left for church, I went upstairs and spread my quilt on top of my bed. From now on Mama would be all around me. The matchbook I found in my pocket this morning, the one with Haven of Hope on it, was lying on my desk. I took the pink satin bag with Mama’s lock of hair in it and opened it. The perfect place for my new treasures. I stuck the matchbook right next to Mama’s curl and pulled the drawstring shut and put the bag under my pillow.
Christmas was different now that Mama and Grandpa were in heaven, but today was a good day. After we read the Christmas story and opened our presents, we all scrunched up and drove to church together in Uncle Don’s van, with Chesler singing at the top of his lungs, “All Is Well.” I liked it that Christmas this year came on a Sunday. It just fit the day somehow.
Laramie and her mom and dad met us at church and sat with our family on the third pew. She and her mom held hands the whole time. So did Uncle Luke and Aunt Lisa.
Daddy sat between Chesler and me, and Granny sat next to Aunt Susannah Hope and patted her leg about fifty times.
Miss Evie was there too. I got to tell her about my new camera. She said she wanted to come see it.
It was hard to listen to Pastor Simmons because all I could think about was last night and being locked in the church. But the best part was giving Mama her present and getting a lock of hair in that silk bag.
Laramie and her parents followed us home after the service. Granny was right about the lunch. It was the most food we’d seen on that old dining room table since Thanksgiving. The only thing was Aunt Susannah Hope had to run down the hall when Granny told her there were oysters in the dressing. Granny said she’d be like that for a few more weeks, then she would feel better than she’d ever felt in her life until the baby came.
After all the eating and laughing and storytelling, everybody went home. The house was quiet again, but a different kind of quiet—like Mama used to like. The kind of quiet that says it’s been a good day and all is well.
I guess Mama was right when she told me life goes on, like the stream always heading somewhere. Sure seemed that way. Uncle Luke was getting married. My aunt was having a baby when she didn’t think she could. Laramie was my new best friend. Chesler was growing up a little bit at a time, and Daddy was settling in to taking care of me and Chesler without Mama’s help.
And me, I was growing up too. I’d be taking my own pictures and making my own Books of My Life from now on and Chesler’s too, just like Mama wanted me to.
I dressed for bed and hung up my Christmas clothes. Tonight would be my first night under the quilt Mama made me. I went to sleep with my pink satin bag in my hand.
The next morning Daddy made good on his promise to take my first roll of film to the one-hour photo counter at the drugstore. We hung around the store, buying a few things on Christmas clearance and waiting for the photos. Then we picked up Laramie. She was going to stay with us so her mom and dad could have some time to talk.
When we finally got back home, I practically dragged Laramie up the stairs to my room ’cause I couldn’t wait to tell her how my plan worked. I threw the packet of photos on my bed and said, “I have to show you something.” She picked up the envelope of photos while I fished under my pillow for my treasure bag. I told her everything that happened and showed her the green matchbook.
“I believed you even without the matches.” Laramie sat on the bed and opened the envelope and looked at the first picture.
I was just about to say something when she jerked her head around, her eyes beaming. She looked straight at me and smiled just like she did when her mom walked through the front door on Christmas Eve.
“What is it, Laramie?” She handed the photo to me. “Here, Kate, you’re not going to believe this.” Then she smiled.
My first photograph. There they were—Daddy, Uncle Luke, and Chesler, sitting on the floor by the Christmas tree right by the window. And there I was, my own reflection in the mirror across the roo
m, camera in front of my face.
“Do you see it? The redbird?”
I held the picture closer and stared at it. Then I saw it, the redbird with her head cocked just so and sitting on the window ledge looking in just like she belonged there.
Laramie was right—I couldn’t believe it. I was in my very first photograph, and so was the redbird. A real family Christmas portrait.
EPILOGUE
Chicago
December 2006
WHILE WE WAITED on her mother, Marla sat on the sofa in the foyer of my office and finished telling me about her conversation with Mr. Josh. “Why does he have all those colors on him?” She pointed back to the picture.
“Because that’s the way I like to think about him.”
“He looks like he got caught in a rainbow.”
I chuckled. “Perhaps he did.”
“But it’s dark all around him. How can you have a rainbow in the dark?”
“Marla, you ask the best questions.”
The clanging bell indicated someone had opened the front door. Marla turned to see. “It’s Mama.” She jumped up and ran toward the door. “Bye, Dr. Kate. See you next year. Oh, and merry Christmas.”
She was halfway out the door to meet her mother when I managed a “Merry Christmas to you too, Marla.” I watched Marla hug her mother. Silhouetted against the late December afternoon sky dotted with Christmas lights, they walked hand in hand across the street to their car.
I turned to the quilt hanging on the wall behind me and ran my fingers over the silk thread outlining the redbird. Then I glanced at the Christmas photo hanging next to the quilt—my first photograph, the one I took on that first Christmas morning after Mama went to heaven. I pondered that day for a few more moments before locking the door and turning out the front lights. I’d be in Cedar Falls this time tomorrow afternoon, joining my family for Christmas again.
Eighteen years had passed since that first Christmas portrait. Life changed when Mama died, and sometimes, I wondered how things might have been if she were still with us. She left too soon, but she left us with so much.
The Christmas Portrait Page 18
