The Christmas Blessing

by Melody Carlson

  “That’s right.” Helene forced a smile for her granddaughter’s sake, then went into the kitchen where Lydia had just sat down to her own lunch.

  “Do you need something?” Lydia started to stand. “Do you want tea or—?”

  “No, no. We don’t need a thing.” Helene put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Sorry to disturb you.” She reached for her handkerchief, using it to blot a careless tear. “I, uh, I just needed to escape for a moment . . . didn’t want Janie to see me like this.” She let out a little sob as she filled a glass with water, taking a quick sip.

  “Oh, you poor darling.” Lydia sadly shook her head as she came over to put an arm around Helene’s shoulders. “You’re missing your boy again. I hear it’s always hardest during holidays.”

  “I’m sure that’s true.” Helene quickly explained about the nativity scene. “I just don’t know if I can hold it all in . . . it will be so difficult . . . seeing the nativity pieces out . . . so many memories.” She took another sip. “But I know that I must . . . for Janie’s sake.”

  “And for James’s sake too,” Lydia said firmly, looking directly into Helene’s eyes. “That dear boy will be peering down from heaven, Mrs. Bradley. I just know it. And he’ll be so happy to see you’re still putting his nativity up. You must do it to honor him.”

  Helene considered this. “Yes, Lydia, I think you’re right.” She glanced toward the back staircase. “I think I’ll go up this way. Thank you, Lydia. Thank you very much.”

  As Helene made her way up the servants’ staircase, she wished she was stronger and braver. She didn’t know how George and Grace always managed to keep their emotions in such close check. Especially since she’d always been so adept at concealing feelings. So much so that some people in town thought her heartless. Perhaps it would be preferable to be heartless. Then she could avoid such intense pain. And regrets.

  Amelia had no doubts that Jimmy was ill. His cough, like hers, had grown worse throughout the night. And despite her plans to take him with her to the beauty salon today—and to beg for a job—she knew that would be irresponsible. So she called Dorothy, asking her to babysit for a couple of hours in the afternoon. Yes, that would further deplete her diminishing finances. But it was necessary. Amelia knew what needed to be done—and she intended to do it.

  She did her best to get ready, putting on her best suit and neatly styling her hair, but when she saw herself in the bathroom mirror, she knew she resembled death warmed over. So much so that she was tempted to put on a bit of rouge and lipstick. But not wanting Helene Bradley to perceive her as a painted lady, she refrained. As she walked to the Bradleys’ home, Amelia rehearsed the words she planned to say. Imagining herself ringing the doorbell and it being answered by a servant—since that big house just had to have servants—she would politely ask to speak to Dr. and Mrs. Bradley. And if she were questioned about this, she would simply say it was a family matter . . . and private. That should get her into their home.

  Then, hopefully, she would meet James’s parents in a private room and she would slowly tell them the full story of her and James. She would tell it honestly, but in such a way as to win their trust . . . perhaps even their compassion. She would explain how they had intended to be married, how they’d even filled out their marriage license paperwork, but how he’d been unexpectedly called back to the ship. Somehow she would make them understand that—in their hearts they had been married. At least that’s what she hoped to do.

  Walking the few blocks to their house sapped all her energy . . . as well as much of her nerve. By the time the grand white colonial home came into view she was breathless and struggling not to cough uncontrollably. Even so she was determined to do this—for Jimmy.

  As she reached the edge of their property she saw Dr. and Mrs. Bradley, along with their daughter and granddaughter and the beautiful golden dog, putting together what appeared to be a Christmas nativity scene in the front yard. She didn’t know what to do.

  She couldn’t imagine walking up to these people, interrupting their activity and announcing who she was, her connection to James, and why she was here. Certainly not in front of the little girl and James’s sister. She lurked behind a nearby hedge for a long minute, just watching them as she tried to revise her plan. But seeing the dog starting to trot her way, Amelia knew she needed to move on. This was just not going to work.

  It felt like it took forever to go the few blocks back to Main Street. And although the hotel was just a couple more blocks, she was so exhausted that it felt like miles. Then, seeing Beulah’s Beauty Shop, Amelia remembered the money that Sally had promised. Thanks to her inability to approach the Bradleys, she would need it more than ever. But to her dismay, Sally wasn’t working today.

  “And Beulah won’t be back until Monday,” the beautician working there informed Amelia. “Do you want to leave a message?”

  “No, thank you.” Amelia covered her mouth as she coughed. “I—I’ll come back later.”

  The beautician peered curiously at her. “Are you okay, honey? You don’t look too good.”

  “I, uh, I’ve got a cold,” Amelia said quickly. “Just need some rest.” She backed away and, feeling like she had the plague, she tried not to cough as she exited the parlor. Feeling weak and defeated, she made her way back to her hotel room.

  “You were only gone an hour.” Dorothy frowned. “You promised me two.”

  “I’ll pay you for two.” Amelia dug out the correct change, dropping it into her hand. “Thank you for watching him.” She started coughing again.

  “Thank you. It’s probably good that you’re back, because Jimmy is sick,” Dorothy told her. “You should take him to the doctor.”

  “Yes, I know. I plan to do that.” Amelia nodded. “Today.”

  “Oh, good.” Dorothy got her coat, hurrying out as if she was worried she might catch whatever it was they had. And maybe she would . . . and that would probably be Amelia’s fault too. Did she ever do anything right? It sure didn’t feel like it.

  She went over to check on Jimmy, relieved to see that he was sleeping. But his cheeks were flushed and his breathing sounded raspy. Still, she didn’t want to disturb him. If he would just sleep a bit longer, perhaps she could rest too. They both needed rest. Still fully dressed in her good blue suit, she lay down on the bed . . . falling almost instantly asleep.

  When she awoke it was to the sound of Jimmy’s muffled sobs. His cries were so much quieter than usual, but she suspected it was simply because, like her, he was worn out from being sick. She fixed him a bottle and sat down to feed him. Watching him lying limply in her arms, looking so frail and helpless—and sick, she suddenly knew what she needed to do. It was as plain as day.

  With crystal clear clarity—almost as if she’d heard the voice of God—she knew that she had to take Jimmy to his grandparents. She needed to do it straightaway. It could not wait until tomorrow. Jimmy’s grandfather was a doctor! He would know exactly what to do to get Jimmy well. It was the only thing that made sense. And suddenly she knew just how to do it. Oh, some might call it a coward’s way out, but she felt certain it would work.

  7

  By late afternoon, Helene was weary of the manufactured smile she’d been wearing the last couple of days. But Grace and Janie wouldn’t be here for long, and after they were gone, Helene knew she could return to her melancholy routine.

  “Grandpa is going to put the lights on the nativity scene,” Janie exclaimed with enthusiasm as she ran into the front room where Helene and Goldie were settled next to the crackling fire.

  “Yes, it’s about time for the lights.” Helene glanced outside to see the sun had already dipped below the trees. “Not a moment too soon.”

  “And I got this!” Janie’s enthusiastic tone brought Goldie to her feet, eagerly wagging her feathery tail as Janie came close enough for Helene to see what looked like a doll cradled in her arms. Goldie sniffed them both with interest.

  Janie held up the bedraggled
doll for Helene to see. “Mama found her old baby doll in the attic. Her name is Mary Jane.” Janie giggled. “Just like me. But I didn’t look like this when I was a baby—did I, Grandma?”

  Helene studied the well-worn doll. It had to be at least twenty years old. The hair had long since been rubbed off and the tip of its nose looked as if something had gnawed on it. “No, no, you were much prettier as a baby, Janie. But your mama’s doll used to be better looking too.”

  “I’m going to put it in the manger. Mommy said Uncle James never made a Baby Jesus out of wood because he could never get it to look just right.”

  “That’s true.”

  Janie stared down at the doll. “Is it okay for our Baby Jesus to be a girl doll?”

  “I think it’s just fine.” Helene felt Goldie rest her head in her lap. Stroking the dog’s silky coat, Helen realized how much the elderly dog had been enjoying the lively company in their house these past couple of days. Poor Goldie would probably be depressed to see them go.

  “Mama asked Velma to find an old sheet to wrap up our Baby Jesus. That will be his swaddling clothes.” Janie laughed. “That’s such a funny word. Swaddling. What does it mean, Grandma?”

  Helene explained it was a way to wrap up a baby.

  “I wanna put Baby Jesus in the manger before Grandpa turns on the lights. I mean, after we get the swaddling clothes on the baby.” Janie sat down next to Goldie, fiddling with the buttons on the doll’s faded pink nightgown.

  As Helene gazed out the window to where the shadows were steadily lengthening, she longed for an excuse—any reason to avoid looking at the homemade nativity scene again. Perhaps she could feign a headache. It had been hard enough watching the life-sized wooden pieces being set up earlier . . . remembering how hard her only son had worked to cut and paint them. And then remembering how James would take charge, commandeering his family about until all the figures were perfectly arranged . . . just so. The lighting had to be perfectly set up too. Then just after sundown, they would all watch as the lights came on. Tradition. But when James was shot down by the Japanese, it felt as if tradition had died with him. Or should’ve.

  “I’ve got the swaddling clothes,” Grace announced. “Let’s wrap up that baby and get him outside. Grandpa is out there waiting for us—ready to turn on the lights.”

  The three of them, with Goldie curiously looking on, managed to twist and wrap the white twin sheet around and around the doll until everyone was finally satisfied. Janie triumphantly held up the bundle. “I think Uncle James must like it too.”

  Grace sighed. “Yes, honey, I’m sure he does.”

  “Do you think Uncle James is watching us? From up in heaven?” Janie asked as they headed for the front door.

  “I think he’s been watching,” Grace told her as she helped her into a coat.

  The three of them, accompanied by an eager Goldie, ceremoniously carried the swaddled baby out into the front yard. George was already there making some final adjustments on the three spotlights. James had rigged up the lights himself, always insisting it took three lights to properly show off all the figures.

  With Goldie chasing her, Janie made a beeline for the wooden manger that she’d already filled with straw. Like a nervous little mother, she took a moment to rearrange the straw, making sure it was fluffed just right. Helene shivered in the cold, averting her eyes from James’s nativity pieces. Maybe this would be less painful next year . . . maybe time would heal some of her wounds.

  Helene wanted to urge Janie to hurry up but knew that would sound impatient. Best to just bite her tongue and bide her time. This would soon be over with and they would all go inside where it was warm. Sensing a movement on the sidewalk behind her, Helene glanced over her shoulder, but seeing nothing, she turned back around and shoved her hands into her pockets.

  Amelia had been well aware of how cold it was outside. For that reason she had dressed Jimmy in several layers of clothing, finally putting him into the fuzzy baby bunting that Claudine had gotten for him before they’d left for Montana. Then she’d taken a moment to write a quick note that she’d tucked into a clean and neatly folded diaper.

  She’d filled the baby bottles with the last of the formula. Padding the glass bottles with clean diapers and the rest of Jimmy’s tiny clothes, she packed it all into a grocery sack that she tucked into her emptied handbag. With Jimmy bundled into a baby blanket and the handbag looped over her arm, she tried to act perfectly natural as she carried him through the reception area of the hotel.

  “Just getting some fresh air,” she cheerfully informed the reception clerk. Thankfully it wasn’t Dorothy’s dad manning the desk right now. “A little walk to clear the head.”

  It was just starting to get dusky as she went outside. Despite her weariness, she walked quickly toward the Bradleys’ neighborhood. Her plan was to sneak up to the house, lay her precious bundle and the grocery sack on their doorstep, ring the bell, and run as fast as she could for the cover of the hedge. She knew it would be a pathetic scene—similar to the one she’d imagined earlier from the old silent movie. But somehow it all made sense. If she could get Jimmy into their hands without disclosing the truth about her and James it would probably be better—at least for Jimmy.

  She’d decided earlier today that no child should be shadowed by his parents’ questionable history. No child should be labeled with words like “illegitimate” or worse. Yes, this was the only way to give Jimmy a fair chance. And if he was as sick as she believed, well, it might very well save his life. That was something she was unable to do by herself.

  When she reached the Bradley property, she was startled to see that once again the family members were outside. It made no sense. Why were they walking around their yard when it was so cold out and nearly dark? She paused in the shadows of the nearby laurel hedge, peering through the leaves as she listened to the sounds of their cheerful voices. Once again, the golden dog was there too, merrily trotting about as if they were having some sort of lawn party. But in the cold and dark? That was crazy.

  Then suddenly, almost like magic, bright lights went on and the nativity scene they’d been working to assemble earlier burst into golden illumination. The Bradleys all clapped and cheered. Amelia blinked to see the amazing scene in front of her—a truly lovely nativity with a life-sized and realistic-looking Mary and Joseph kneeling next to a manger. They were surrounded by shepherds and sheep, three wise men, and numerous barn animals. It was amazingly lifelike! So much so that, for a moment, Amelia forgot what she was doing or why she was there.

  When Jimmy started to quietly fuss, she suddenly remembered. She jostled him from side to side and he quieted . . . while she continued to watch and to wait. The scene was incredibly beautiful, but hopefully the Bradleys would soon get cold and go back into the house. Then, just like that, Dr. Bradley gathered up the little girl, hoisting her up to his shoulders, and all of them, trailed by the dog, started for the house. About halfway there, the dog turned around, and Amelia could see it coming her way. Had the curious animal sniffed a stranger in the yard? Hopefully it wasn’t about to bark and reveal her whereabouts.

  “Good boy,” she whispered as the dog came closer, clearly aware of her presence. “It’s okay. We can be friends.”

  The Bradleys were nearly to the porch when the dog started to sniff her. Then it let out a curious bark. Not threatening, just interested. “It’s okay,” she said quietly as she made her way into the yard. “This baby belongs here. He needs Dr. Bradley.”

  Now someone was calling for the dog. Apparently the dog’s name was Goldie. Feeling her plan unraveling, Amelia glanced at the nearby nativity and suddenly realized that held her answer. Running directly for the manger, she reached inside and, removing what looked like a baby doll, she gently nestled Jimmy into its place. With tears streaming down both cheeks, she bent down to kiss him. “God bless you,” she whispered. “God bless you and keep you.”

  Afraid that the family would spot her, she turned
to run. But halfway across the yard, she remembered the baby things in her purse. Pausing to drop them in the grass, she took off again, heading for the cover of the laurel hedge.

  She could hear the dog barking louder now. Not viciously, but with canine excitement. To Amelia’s relief, the dog—Goldie—had remained by the manger. It almost felt as if she’d stayed there to guard Jimmy—and to alert her owners. “God bless you, Goldie,” Amelia whispered. “God bless my baby.”

  Amelia knew she couldn’t remain there and not expect to be found. So, using every last ounce of her energy, she ran all the way back to the hotel. It wasn’t until she was breathlessly going inside that she realized she was still cradling the doll in her arms. Fortunately, the desk clerk was preoccupied and barely looked up to say hello. Holding the lifeless doll tightly to her chest, she hurried into her room, collapsing on her bed and sobbing uncontrollably.

  8

  As they went onto the front porch, Helene called out for Goldie again. But instead of coming, the dog just let out a couple of barks. “What’s wrong with that dog?” Helene said absently, unbuttoning the top of her coat.

  “She probably saw a squirrel,” Janie suggested.

  “Or that stray cat that’s been hanging around.” George opened the door and flipped on the porch light.

  Helene turned back to peer into the yard. The spotlights were still illuminating the nativity scene, so brightly that she had to squint to see around them. “Come on, Goldie!” she called out. “Come on, girl. Time to go inside.” But still Goldie didn’t come.

  “What’s that dog up to?” George eased Janie down off his shoulders, whistling for Goldie to come.

  “I don’t know.” Helene frowned. And suddenly Goldie was barking in a way that would probably disturb the neighbors.