A REAL CHRISTMAS

“Please, Mom, can’t we have one this year?”

“Everybody else has one!”

I gazed at my two children and let out a sigh. For the last few years they’d pestered me for a real Christmas tree.  A small request, but I wasn’t particularly fond of Christmas. Five years ago my husband John died two weeks before Christmas, and I’d never really entered into the spirit of things since.

Of course, for the children’s sake, I put on a show of enjoying it all.  We decorated the house and made gingerbread, trimmed our pretty but artificial tree.  But my heart was never really in it. Maybe now it was time for a change.

“All right.”  I smiled in spite of myself. “We can get a tree.  A real one.”  I shook my head in wonderment as their cheers.  Why was a real tree so important to them?  They’d never had one, not to remember, anyway.  And yet... a real tree.  Maybe even, a real Christmas.     

That Saturday we drove to the Christmas tree farm.  The sky was slate gray and by the time we arrived it was drizzling a combination of snow and rain. Ours was the only car in the parking lot.

A man with sandy hair and a friendly, weathered face approached us as we clambered out of the car.

“Hi, there.  Welcome to Snowflake Farm.  May I help?”

“We’re going to cut our Christmas tree down!”  Jack announced proudly.  “A really big one.”

“Is that so?”  The man glanced quickly at me, smiling, and I found myself blushing. Why, I couldn’t say.

“Why don’t you come into my office and I’ll sort out the details?” He turned to me.  “I’m Rob McGill, and I own this farm.”

“Alice Montgomery.” He shook my hand, his grip firm.

A few minutes later, Rob showed us the trees.  “You can leave it where it falls and I’ll come get it on the sled.”  

The icy rain needled our faces as we trooped out to the field of firs.  Even in the grey gloom, the trees were beautiful, tall and stately with a slight dusting of snow. 

We finally settled on a decent sized tree that didn’t look too difficult to cut. 

The children stood behind me while I knelt down in the snow and peered under the tree. The pine boughs slapped against my face, the needles prickling my skin.  My jeans were soon soaked.

“Okay,” I said as cheerfully as I could.  “Here goes.”  I placed the saw against the trunk and started to saw. 

“You’re doing it, Mom!”  Jack said jubilantly.

“Um... yes.”  After five minutes, I inspected my progress and realised I’d made a cut the size of my pinkie finger.  This was a bit harder than I’d thought.

My hands were red, raw, and frozen and I couldn’t feel my knees. Why on earth hadn’t I brought gloves? A bitter wind seemed to blow right through me, taunting me with defeat. All my earlier hopes to make this a real Christmas for the children as well as in my heart seemed to crumble into despair. 

“Let’s take a little break,” I suggested and stood up, grateful to relieve the cramp in my legs. 

I could do this, I reminded myself.  I’d got through the last five years on my own, I could surely cut down a Christmas tree! Yet suddenly I realised I didn’t want to.  I wanted some help... some companionship.

“Need help?” Rob McGill called out, dragging the sled behind him. 

“I’m not going to give up,” I replied stoutly. 

Rob grinned, the warmth in his eyes disconcerting me.  “I didn’t think you would.  And I won’t deprive you the satisfaction of cutting down a tree by yourself.  But at least take these.”

He handed me his gloves, and I slipped them on. They were made of soft leather and fur lined, still warm from his own hands.     “Thank you.”  I was oddly touched by his gesture. 

With feeling restored to my hands, I began to saw more vigourously. 

“Timber!”  Jack shouted gleefully.

“You did it.”  Rob spoke quietly, but I could see he was glad I’d seen it through.

“I did it.”  Amazement tinged my words.  I turned to smile at Rob, and again the look in his eyes, that lovely warmth, sent a tingling through me that had nothing to do with the cold.

“I’ll load this on the sled and take it back,” Rob offered.  “There’s hot chocolate back at the office if you’d like some... you could all do with some warming up!”

The children had gone to the barn to see Blitzen, the reindeer, and Rob and I were left in the cramped office, standing by the woodstove and cradling our styrofoam cups of cocoa.  I felt awkward suddenly, almost shy.

“How long have you had this place?” I asked, mostly to fill the silence.

“Four years.  I was a lawyer before that.”

“Really?  Quite a change, then.”

“Yes.”  Rob’s eyes darkened suddenly, although he still smiled.  “I felt like a change... sometimes you just need a new start. My wife left me, you see.  It happens.”  His grin was crooked.  “But I wanted to get away. Try again somewhere new.”

“I can understand that.”  How many times had I wanted to escape the narrow confines of my own life, the prison of my memories?

“What about you?” Rob turned to face me with a smile.  “Independent spirit, obviously...” The questioning lilt to his words made me realize he wondered if there was a husband in the picture.

“My husband died five years ago,” I said quietly.  “I’ve moved past the grieving, but I’m used to doing things on my own, out of necessity.”

“I understand.”  He didn’t need to say anything more, because I knew he did. We smiled at each other, the silence no longer awkward.  In fact, I was starting to feel something else entirely.

Jack and Katy tumbled into the room then, full of excited chatter about Blitzen. 

“Reindeers don’t fly, not really,” Jack scoffed, only to add uncertainly, “do they, Mr. McGill?”

“Only on Christmas Eve.”  Rob grinned at me, and I smiled back. I didn’t want this afternoon to end, yet I couldn’t think of a plausible reason for staying.

“I suppose we should go,” I said after a moment.  “Get that tree standing and decorated!” I began to gather the children’s coats.

“I hope the tree works out,” Rob said.  “Let me know if you need help putting it up.”

I groaned.  “I hadn’t even thought of that. This is our first real tree.”

“I’d be happy to help,”  Rob said.  “For a small fee.”

“Oh?” I grinned, enjoying myself.  “And what would that be?”

“Nothing much.  Hot chocolate, of course, and perhaps a cookie or two...?”

“How about dinner tonight?” I asked, surprising myself.  “If you’re going to put our tree up, it’s the least I can do.”

“Sounds great.”

I smiled, imagining the scene. Rob, in our house, helping Katy put the star on top. Sitting down to dinner together. Like a family.

Rob smiled back, and I felt a warmth inside me that had nothing to do with the hot chocolate, and all to do with the man who’d transformed our day.

“Merry Christmas,” Rob said, “and I’ll see you tonight?”

“Absolutely.” I smiled. “And merry Christmas to you, too.”

Katy and Jack’s hands in mine, we turned to the car. I had no doubts this was definitely going to be a real Christmas.

...END

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Copyright © 2007 by Katharine Swartz