Adelaide's Gift - Part 4
“You’ve hardly touched your soup.” Addie’s mom reached out a hand, placing the back of it against Addie’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m just…” Addie searched for an excuse. “Excited for Christmas.”
Her father placed a hand on her shoulder. “Just don’t get too excited, sweetie. Like I said, I don’t think Santa’s going to be able to get here tonight.”
“I know.” She swirled her tepid soup with her spoon. The meager fire in the pot-bellied stove crackled. If I go to my room, I can be alone.
Her parents looked at each other. Some silent message passed between them and their faces fell. They both returned to their thin soup, finishing the meal in silence.
Knock knock! The bangs on the door startled all of them.
“Now who’d be calling on Christmas Eve?” Her father pushed the chair back.
“I’m not expecting anyone,” her mother said.
Her father opened the door. “Norma, what are you doing here?”
Mrs. Norma held a bulging department store bag, struggling to hold it up. “This is for you.”
“For me?” Her father glanced back at the two of them watching from the kitchen table. “I don’t know if we know each other well enough for gifts.”
“It’s for the whole family.” She pushed the bag into his hands. “Take it. That bag is all I had on me to put it in.”
Her father lugged the bag over to the table. They all leaned in and looked. The fancy bag was stuffed full of coal, at least thirty pounds of it.
“That’s all I could fit in there, but the young man making the deliveries said it should be enough to last you through Christmas Day.”
A tear ran down her father’s face. Addie didn’t know if she’d ever seen him cry. “How’d you know we needed—?”
Mrs. Norma glanced at Addie and held up her hand. “I just had a hunch. Have a wonderful Christmas.” She turned to leave and waved to someone else in the hallway. “Hi Francis! Robert!”
“Hello!” Old Man Beasley replaced her at the door, his face beaming.
“All sorts of visitors tonight,” her mother said. She spoke carefully, not wanting the old man to break into a tirade. “How can I help you, Mr. Beasley?”
“I was just heading to my son’s for Christmas Eve, but we wanted to stop by.” Old Man Beasley stepped aside, and a tall man took his place in the doorframe.
“Robert Beasley!” Her father shook the foreman’s hand. “I didn’t expect to see you outside the factory.”
“Since I was in the area, I thought I’d drop this off.” He held out an envelope. “Since we’re not open tomorrow, I figured you could use your pay.”
Her father’s trembling hands took the envelope, gaping at it. “Thank you!”
“I’m going to have a talk with management on Monday,” Robert Beasley said. “It’s unacceptable that you all have to wait an extra week for pay.”
Her father shook Robert’s hand enthusiastically. “Thank you, thank you.” He looked at the envelope. “You have no idea what this means.”
“You can thank my father.” Robert nodded to Addie. “He said he had a good talk with your daughter. She helped the two of us begin reconciling.” The two Beasley’s wrapped their arms around each other’s waists.
“You were busy today.” Her mother proudly smiled at Addie.
“Have a wonderful Christmas!” Old Man Beasley said.
The two men left. Her father sat in his chair, staring at the bag of coal and the envelope with his pay. Her mother wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him.
“I can’t believe how things have worked out,” she said.
They spent the evening sitting around the radio as the stove heated their apartment. It wasn’t like in the summer, but it was warmer than Addie had been in weeks. She sighed, enjoying the time with her parents.
It was over too soon, though. She stifled a yawn, but her mother noticed.
“Time for bed.” She helped Addie to her feet. “Go get ready.”
After getting her pajamas on, Addie was about to climb into bed when there was another knock at the front door. She heard one of her parents shuffle over, muttering to themselves.
“Addie, it’s for you!” her mother called.
Addie came out to see Rita standing in the doorway. In her hands, she held something wrapped in an old newspaper. She held it out. “This is for you.”
“For me?” Addie took it and turned it in her hands.
“A Christmas gift,” Rita said. She leaned forward to whisper in Addie’s ear. “I don’t play with it any more. I hope you like it.”
“Thank you.” Addie gave Rita a hug.
“I’ve got to get to bed!” Rita took off down the hall, calling back “Merry Christmas!”
Addie placed the gift at the foot of her bed. I can open it in the morning. I’ve gotten everything I needed already tonight.
“I’m just…” Addie searched for an excuse. “Excited for Christmas.”
Her father placed a hand on her shoulder. “Just don’t get too excited, sweetie. Like I said, I don’t think Santa’s going to be able to get here tonight.”
“I know.” She swirled her tepid soup with her spoon. The meager fire in the pot-bellied stove crackled. If I go to my room, I can be alone.
Her parents looked at each other. Some silent message passed between them and their faces fell. They both returned to their thin soup, finishing the meal in silence.
Knock knock! The bangs on the door startled all of them.
“Now who’d be calling on Christmas Eve?” Her father pushed the chair back.
“I’m not expecting anyone,” her mother said.
Her father opened the door. “Norma, what are you doing here?”
Mrs. Norma held a bulging department store bag, struggling to hold it up. “This is for you.”
“For me?” Her father glanced back at the two of them watching from the kitchen table. “I don’t know if we know each other well enough for gifts.”
“It’s for the whole family.” She pushed the bag into his hands. “Take it. That bag is all I had on me to put it in.”
Her father lugged the bag over to the table. They all leaned in and looked. The fancy bag was stuffed full of coal, at least thirty pounds of it.
“That’s all I could fit in there, but the young man making the deliveries said it should be enough to last you through Christmas Day.”
A tear ran down her father’s face. Addie didn’t know if she’d ever seen him cry. “How’d you know we needed—?”
Mrs. Norma glanced at Addie and held up her hand. “I just had a hunch. Have a wonderful Christmas.” She turned to leave and waved to someone else in the hallway. “Hi Francis! Robert!”
“Hello!” Old Man Beasley replaced her at the door, his face beaming.
“All sorts of visitors tonight,” her mother said. She spoke carefully, not wanting the old man to break into a tirade. “How can I help you, Mr. Beasley?”
“I was just heading to my son’s for Christmas Eve, but we wanted to stop by.” Old Man Beasley stepped aside, and a tall man took his place in the doorframe.
“Robert Beasley!” Her father shook the foreman’s hand. “I didn’t expect to see you outside the factory.”
“Since I was in the area, I thought I’d drop this off.” He held out an envelope. “Since we’re not open tomorrow, I figured you could use your pay.”
Her father’s trembling hands took the envelope, gaping at it. “Thank you!”
“I’m going to have a talk with management on Monday,” Robert Beasley said. “It’s unacceptable that you all have to wait an extra week for pay.”
Her father shook Robert’s hand enthusiastically. “Thank you, thank you.” He looked at the envelope. “You have no idea what this means.”
“You can thank my father.” Robert nodded to Addie. “He said he had a good talk with your daughter. She helped the two of us begin reconciling.” The two Beasley’s wrapped their arms around each other’s waists.
“You were busy today.” Her mother proudly smiled at Addie.
“Have a wonderful Christmas!” Old Man Beasley said.
The two men left. Her father sat in his chair, staring at the bag of coal and the envelope with his pay. Her mother wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him.
“I can’t believe how things have worked out,” she said.
They spent the evening sitting around the radio as the stove heated their apartment. It wasn’t like in the summer, but it was warmer than Addie had been in weeks. She sighed, enjoying the time with her parents.
It was over too soon, though. She stifled a yawn, but her mother noticed.
“Time for bed.” She helped Addie to her feet. “Go get ready.”
After getting her pajamas on, Addie was about to climb into bed when there was another knock at the front door. She heard one of her parents shuffle over, muttering to themselves.
“Addie, it’s for you!” her mother called.
Addie came out to see Rita standing in the doorway. In her hands, she held something wrapped in an old newspaper. She held it out. “This is for you.”
“For me?” Addie took it and turned it in her hands.
“A Christmas gift,” Rita said. She leaned forward to whisper in Addie’s ear. “I don’t play with it any more. I hope you like it.”
“Thank you.” Addie gave Rita a hug.
“I’ve got to get to bed!” Rita took off down the hall, calling back “Merry Christmas!”
Addie placed the gift at the foot of her bed. I can open it in the morning. I’ve gotten everything I needed already tonight.
Recent
Archive
2024
January
Day Camp Registration OpenNext Inspired Life Speaker: Rev. Hannah Campbell GustafsonJanuary Wellness Focus: Financial WellnessBeautiful Souls Grief Support GroupCelebrate Black Composers Concert with Mill City String QuartetFinal Inspired Life: Building Mental Wellness Together SpeakerOrdinary Time at Camp HouseTwin Cities Plastic-Free ChallengeFebruary 2024 Newsletter
February
March
April
May
May 2024 NewsletterMay Wellness Focus: Physical WellnessConfirmation Sunday 2024Day Camp Hosts NeededA Successful MHC Stories of Hope FundraiserSaints on Bikes - Minneapolis LakesTwo Weeks Left to Register for Day CampBible and Bagels - June 9Bubble Dance Party & Ice Cream SocialStay Connected This SummerSummer 2024 Newsletter
July
August
September
2023
January
March
March Wellness Focus: Spiritual WellnessDonate for Easter FlowersDay Camp at All SaintsWork in Progress: Redo, Rewrite, Restore - Kids Connection for MarchClara Schumann PiecesPB&J (Pizza, Beverage & Justice) NightMarch PlaydateInspired Life Series: Ann PierceIntergenerational Serving at Feed My Starving ChildrenBehold the Darkness - Good Friday CantataAll Saints Increasing Partnership with ICAJoin Our Dedicated VolunteersThe Road: Featured Guest Alison YoungCommunity Garden - Kids Connection for AprilHoly Week Services
No Comments