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The Christmas Present

In a small, quiet town nestled between two cotton topped mountains, not so far from here or there lived a boy named Edward. He had worn out shoes with holes in the soles and a faded, brown coat that was too big and belonged to someone else before it became his. He was nine years old.

It was very close to Christmas and as Edward walked the narrow, cobble stone streets of town from school, he kept his head down hoping to spot a coin or two. Now and then he thought he spied one and his heart jumped with delight. However, after reaching his green, woolen mittens through the cold, icy slush he pulled up only bottle caps and pieces of tin.

It was growing dark and Edward knew he should hurry home, for his Mama would be worried about him. He quickened his pace and could hear the echo of his footsteps off the shops which lined the street.

Tears began to flow from Edward's eyes as he approached the small, one room cottage that he lived in with his Mama and Papa. If only he could have found a coin or two! He longed to buy his parents a Christmas present. But, alas, it seemed that this year would be another when they would go without. Oh yes, his Mama would surely have made him a new sweater out of whatever yarn she could muster up and Papa; he would surely have built him a new desk or a rocking horse. But, what could he give to them?

Making sure that his tears were dry, he opened the door to the small cottage and the heat from the fire in the stone fireplace felt wonderful on his red, cold skin. Just as Mama requested, he took off his shoes, soaked mittens and coat and placed them beside the door so he wouldn't bring any dirt into the house.

Mama was over by the black, iron stove stirring soup. She smiled at Edward and said, "I'm glad you're home my son. I was beginning to grow worried."

"I'm sorry, Mama," Edward replied, walking over to her and giving her a hug around her waist. "I walked slowly today."

"And why was that?" asked Mama.

"Oh," said Edward, not wanting her to know he was desperately searching for money, "I had much thinking to do."

"Thinking," Mama laughed as she continued to stir the soup, "such a young boy shouldn't have so much on his mind." She gently touched his hair and he went to the washroom to clean for dinner. Papa would soon be home.

As he lathered up the ball of soap in his hands that Mama had made, he thought of Papa and how hard he worked at the mill. No matter, he sighed. There never seemed to be enough money to buy anything new, never mind Christmas gifts. Edward was thankful for whatever his Papa made him, but he was not skilled like his Papa or his Mama and could make nothing for them in return.

While drying his face on the soft cloth which smelled of the rose petals Mama put in the wash water, Edward heard his Papa come in.

"Oh, what a day, my Dear," he said to Mama. "Where's Edward?"

"Right here Papa," Edward said, running from the wash room to greet his Papa.

"Well, my son," he laughed, picking him up, "you are looking bigger every day. Soon, I will not be able to lift you like this." With that, he spun Edward around and he laughed very hard. How he loved Papa.

"Dinner is ready," Mama said as she carefully spooned potato soup into the three hand made bowls on the table. Grand-mama made them when she was alive and Edward still missed her very much. She also made the green, woolen mittens he wore.

Although they had already had potato soup four times that week, Edward didn't complain. His Mama always tried doing something a little different to it each time so that it would not get too boring to the taste.

"This is wonderful, Mama. Thank you."

Edward saw the smile on Mama's face and thought that she still looked sad, even though she tried not to. He wondered if she, too, was growing tired of potato soup. But, she would never say anything. It would make Papa feel terribly sad.

Edward watched Papa eat his soup. His hands were very large and his skin looked like the crocodile pictures he saw in the schoolhouse. How sorry he felt for Papa, having to work in the cold mill all day.

Edward's eyes began to mist as once again he thought of Christmas approaching. If only he could give each parent the Christmas present they deserved.

"What's wrong, Edward? You're not eating your soup," Mama said with a concerned look.

Edward quickly tried to stop thinking and began eating right away. "Nothing, Mama." He knew she didn't believe him, but she didn't say a word. She just gave him her warm, gentle smile which always seemed to make him feel better.

Later that evening, with the dishes washed and put away, Edward grew tired and his Mama told him to go to bed. He gave Mama and Papa a kiss and a hug goodnight and went over to his small corner of the cottage and climbed into the bed Papa made for him when he was seven. Pulling the soft quilt up over his head, he cried himself to sleep. Christmas was only two days away.

The next day, Edward was up early. After doing his chores, for it was not a school day, he quickly put on his oversized jacket, green woolen mittens and boots.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Mama asked.

Edward did not want to lie to his Mama - for that's something he never did. So, he figured a way to tell her the truth with some clever words which would not upset her. "I am going on a treasure hunt," he smiled.

"Oh," said Mama, grinning. "Well, may you find lots of wonderful treasures! Don't go too far, though. I want you home for lunch."

With that, Edward hurried out the door and headed into the small town, which was not far from here or there, nestled between two cotton topped mountains in search for some coins.

People were bustling about in preparation for Christmas the next day. Edward watched them with tears in his eyes as they came out of the local shops with presents wrapped in beautiful paper of all colors, tied with bright, red bows. If only, he thought, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

He continued his search, unnoticed by passers by, but came up empty handed. He thought for certain that he would find at least one coin that day- with so many folks about. But, he did not and soon it was time to head home for lunch.

As he approached the small cottage that he lived in with his Mama and Papa, he noticed many people at the door talking to Mama. They were men. Men from the mill. When Edward finally made his way through the group to his Mama, he saw she was crying.

His heart started beating fast and he asked his Mama, "What's wrong?"

"We must go," said Mama, taking him by the hand and leading him to one of the men's trucks. "Papa is not well. We must hurry."

"What? Papa is sick?" Edward felt his throat turn into a lump and found it difficult to speak. "What's wrong? Mama, please tell me?" He looked at her with large, brown eyes, just like his Papa's.

As the truck drove over the bumpy, cobble stone streets through town, the man who worked with his Papa said, "It's his heart, son. He took ill at the mill today and fell over. We got him to the hospital as fast as we could, but the doctor thinks he has a sick heart."

Edward could hear his mother's cries and he moved closer to her in the back seat of the rusty old truck. Taking her hand in his, he looked at her and said, "Papa will be fine, Mama. I just know it. Please don't cry." It made him very sad to see his mother cry. He had never seen her cry before.

She didn't say anything, but held Edward's hand very tight. When at last they reached the hospital, they thanked the man for the ride and ran, hand in hand, into the large, white building with the red awning. Edward had never been there before.

"Where's Papa?" he asked Mama as they walked over to a woman dressed in white.

"I don't know yet," Mama said through her tears. "I will find out now."

Edward listened as the lady in the white dress told Mama where to find Papa. As they walked down the long hallway, Edward felt his stomach grow ill. He was suddenly very afraid.

They came to a room and stopped. Mama looked at the number on the door and they went in.

Papa was so still. Edward feared he was gone. "Papa! Papa!" he cried, running over to the bed in which he lay.

Mama was right by his side, calming him down by rubbing his back. "Edward, shhhh. It's okay. You must be brave right now. Do you think you can do that?"

Edward swallowed hard and looked at his Mama. Her eyes were different. They were red and swollen - like someone had hit her. He soon realized that it was from crying and that he must be brave for his Mama. "Yes, I can do that, Mama."

She leaned over him and kissed Papa on the top of his head. Edward heard her say 'I Love You' and then she told Edward that she must go find the doctor. "You stay here and pray for Papa. Can you do that?"

Now, Edward never did go to Sunday school like most of the other children. There were too many chores to be done around the house on weekends. But, his Mama taught him how to pray from the time he was old enough to talk. It might not have been the same kind of way other children prayed, but, Mama said that God hears what's in your heart and you don't need special words for that. You just have to mean it.

"Yes, Mama. I will pray for Papa." With that, she left the room quickly in search of a doctor.

Alone with Papa, Edward held his large, rough hand in his own and asked God to help his Papa get better. He asked God to fix his broken heart so that he could come home real soon. He prayed and prayed and prayed. Papa never moved.

Mama came back later and she did not look happy. Edward could tell that she had been crying more and he wanted to hug her, but was afraid to let go of Papa's hand. She pulled up a small stool and sat beside him, taking Papa's other hand in his own.

"What is it, Mama? What did the doctor say to you? Is Papa going to be okay?"

She looked at him and through her tears and said, "I don't know, my son. The doctor said that Papa's heart was attacked and he doesn't know if he will be okay."

"No, Mama!" Edward cried. "That can not be! Papa has got to be okay. I already asked God!"

"Shhh," Mama said, kissing Edward on his tear soaked cheek. "God heard you, I know he did. We'll both have to pray together. Maybe if we both do, He will fix Papa's heart."

All night long Edward and Mama held Papa's hands and prayed for him. It was not until daylight filled the room that Edward realized he'd fallen asleep.

"Oh, no," he said, rubbing his weary eyes. "I did not pray enough! How could I have fallen asleep?" He looked at Papa who was still very still. Mama's head was resting on the bed next to Papa's and she, too, had fallen asleep.

"Don't worry my son," she said. "We can start praying again now. God understands that we need to sleep. It's okay."

Again, they each took one of Papa's hand in their own and just as they started to pray, they heard Christmas carols coming from outside the hospital window.

"Do you hear that, Mama? It sounds like angels."

"Maybe it is," she said, wiping a tear from her face. "Maybe it is."

"It sounds like Christmas to me," a soft voice said.

Both Edward and Mama looked at Papa. His eyes were open! He spoke!

"Oh, Papa!" Edward cried, jumping from his stool and kissing Papa's forehead. "You are awake! Your heart was attacked but now you are with us!"

Mama cried softly and brought Papa's hand to her face. "Oh, my dear one. You have given me the best Christmas present ever. I love you, so."

"I love you, too," Papa said softly. Turning to Edward, he reached out his hand. "My boy, Merry Christmas."

Edward's eyes filled with tears as the angels outside continued to sing. He held his Papa's hand once again and thanked God for making his father well again. "You know, Papa. I think I know what it means now."

"What do you mean, my boy?" Papa asked.

Mama looked at him, too, waiting for him to speak.

"I know why this is the best Christmas gift ever. The present is a gift. That's why they call it the present. It's all we have - and it's everything in the world."

With that, Mama, Papa and Edward smiled, their hands joined together in a circle of love, surrounded by Christmas Present.

The End. © Ellen M. DuBois

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