A Home for Christmas (Part 1)

Nine years ago, I had the idea of writing a Christmas story for my readers and I’ve continued this tradition ever since. Part one is posted the Friday after Thanksgiving each year and, while I can hardly believe it’s that time of year already, here we are. Writing a story each holiday season gives me the opportunity to write a bit of fiction (which I love to do) while giving you all a bit of a break from all of the busyness of the season (and from all the craziness in this world) for just a few moments as you take time to read the story for a few minutes each week.

This particular year, I had a very difficult time coming up with an idea for some reason. I had been mulling it over and over and actually almost just decided not to write one this year. But, just in the nick of time, my mom gave me an idea from a short account she had read. So this year’s story is based on actual events, which is a wonderful thing to contemplate. Like last year, there are only four Fridays between Christmas and New Year, so the final part (part five) will be posted the day after Christmas. I hope you enjoy it. Here is Part 1 of “A Home for Christmas”–

     Joey and June shivered as they sat close together on the well-worn sofa bundled up in their warmest sweaters with coats over top. The sofa’s stitching was ripping apart in several places and there was a large burn mark on the left cushion where, at some point, a spark had flown out of the stove when the door was opened. The stove, of pot belly variety, sat in the corner nearest the sofa and warmed up the cabin quite nicely when it was filled with wood. However, this particular morning it sat empty in the little cabin because the wood had run out the day before.
     12-year-old Joey gave a troubled sigh. No wood. And they were almost out of food. The children’s mother had left to go look for work a few weeks before and had never returned. But, if the truth were known, neither of the children were all that surprised.
     Joey tried to think back to the day Mom had left. He remembered that she had given him an unusual side hug and told him that he and his sister would be just fine. He had thought that strange at the time. Just fine? What did that mean?
     He knew that she was struggling to make ends meet and he also realized, even at his young age, that she was turning to things—bad things— to escape her troubles. He had seen the broken bottles behind the house and had noticed how she slept away many of the days.
     He also realized, deep down inside and even though he could never have described it in words, that his mother always thought of herself, first and foremost. She had taken care of the two of them, but always and only if it meant taking care of herself, too. Joey and June had never known a mother’s love because their mother had no love to give.
     And so one day, when the burden of caring for the children just felt too heavy to bear, she simply got out of her bed, packed a few items in a bag, and walked away.
     Joey knew that his mother was not coming back and his mind tried to process this. The questions that arose overwhelmed him and the burden felt doubly heavy because he felt responsible for June. He was all she had. He had to take care of her. He just had to. His anguished soul was in despair. What were they going to do?
     This is what he was thinking as he sat by that cold little stove on a Tuesday morning in February. He gave a deep sigh and finally said, “I think I will go look for some firewood.”
     The cabin sat in a small woods on the outside of town. He was hoping he could find something to burn in the stove to at least warm up the cabin for a bit. Maybe if he wasn’t so cold he would be able to think more clearly.
     “Do you think we should eat first? What do we have to eat?” asked 8-year-old June as her belly rumbled loudly.
     “Okay, let me look what we have left. I’m sure there is something around here,” he said with a confidence he didn’t really feel. He didn’t want her to be worried but he knew there was only one can of beans left in the cabinet. That was it.
     He took the can down from the shelf and heated its unappealing contents in a saucepan on the stove. Soon they were seated at a small wooden table, where Joey asked the Lord to bless the food. Mama had not taught them to pray. That was Granny Barnes. The little family had lived with Granny Barnes until four years ago. She had passed away and left her daughter and her two grandchildren all alone in the world. Things had gone downhill for the little family from there. After asking the Lord to bless the food, he pleaded with God to help them. He didn’t know where help would come from, but Granny had taught him that God was a help in times of trouble. And they were definitely in trouble.
     The two little figures made a sorry sight as they hunched over the table in their coats, spooning the tasteless food into their mouths.
     As Joey sat eating, a thought came to him. Would Mom have hidden any money that she might have forgotten to take with her? She had had a habit of tucking small bills away for “emergencies”. Perhaps, there would be some hidden away that they could use to purchase some food. They would have to ration it very carefully but it just might keep them from starving. He decided it was time to do an all-out search of the cabin. But first, the wood. He stood up from the table, still hungry despite the empty plate in front of him.
     “I want to go with you,” said June as Joey moved towards the door. Fear of being left all alone forever filled June’s mind and she jumped up to follow him.
     “Well, I guess that’s okay. You can help me carry the wood,” said Joey.
     Soon they were walking through the woods, picking up thick branches they could find that weren’t too unwieldy, along with any other smaller pieces of wood they could carry. Several trips were made back and forth to the cabin porch, where soon they had a nice pile of brush and wood that would help keep them warm for a while in the wintry temperatures.
     Now to search for a few dollar bills that would buy them some food. The children entered the cabin and began to look around.
     June suddenly remembered that Mommy had kept an old tin can tucked under the floorboard in the cabin’s single bedroom. Did Mommy take it with her?
     Joey pulled the floorboard up, where they found the old tin cylinder. Filled with hope, Joey pulled off the lid. But all that was in there was a handful of coins. That wouldn’t even buy one can of food. Feeling disappointed and hopeless, they continued their search.
     Joey found a couple dollars in a cup near the stove and June found a dollar bill in one of Mom’s old shirts. But, other than that, their search came up empty.
     The children stood looking around the cabin carefully. Suddenly, June cried, “Did you look in that little box?” She pointed towards a small wooden box that sat all alone on the shelf near the stove.
     Joey hadn’t noticed it before and excitedly pulled over a chair to climb up and retrieve the box. As they lifted the lid, they were thrilled to find a ten dollar bill. Filled with relief, Joey smiled. He didn’t know what the future held but this would do for now.
     Joey pocketed the thirteen dollars they had found and, together, they began the half mile walk to town.