Christmas with the Reeds Page 5
I walk up to a young girl who’s standing on the street corner. “How much will you make tonight?” I ask her. Emily stands beside me.
“For both of you together, it’ll be expensive,” the girl says.
Emily’s cheeks color and she tucks her face into my sleeve. “How much to get you off the corner for one night?” I ask.
The girl finally understands. “My little sister, she needs medicine,” she rushes to say. She wouldn’t be out here if she didn’t have to be. No one would.
“How much?” I repeat.
I have a wad of hundred dollar bills in my pocket. We all do. It’s part of what we’re doing tonight.
“One hundred,” she says.
“That’s all?” I ask. “Where are you sleeping?”
She jerks a thumb toward the shelter.
“Where’s your sister?”
“Waiting to see Santa.”
I peel four crisp one hundred dollar bills from my pocket and I fold them into a square. Her eyes go wide. I tuck them into her palm.
“After she sees Santa, I want you to come and find me, okay?” I tell her. “I don’t care what I’m doing. Come to me and tell me what it would take for you to get a job. A place to live. Or an education. Think about it and then come and tell me what you want your next step to be. I’ll help you make it happen.”
Tears fill her eyes and she blinks them back. “Really?”
“Really,” Emily says. “Food. Medicine. A place to live.” Her brow furrows. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” the girl replies quickly. But I know she’s lying.
“No more working tonight,” I tell her. “Go inside, get a hot meal, see Santa, and then come and find me, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers.
“Tell Santa something you want, too, okay?” I tell her.
She nods. But she has a defeated look in her eyes. “This Santa…” she says. “What he is going to give my sister is the only present she’ll get. I don’t care if it’s just a candy cane. It’s more than I can give her.”
“I hear this Santa has some tricks up his sleeve.” I turn her toward the line. “Go find your sister.”
I see her duck into the line with her little sister and she tucks the money I just gave her into the pocket of her jeans.
“That was nice of you,” Emily says.
“No, that was human of me. Nice wasn’t even a part of it.”
“I never had anyone but myself to take care of,” Emily tells me. “I could be hungry, but I didn’t have anyone who was waiting for me to feed her.”
Emily points to a person in line who has four children with her. They call her Nana, and the little ones are so excited they can barely stand the wait. “Do them next,” Em says. I stop to talk to them.
“Are you guys here to see Santa?” I ask.
The younger kids are star-struck by my costume. The oldest, though, is cynical. “Everybody knows Santa isn’t real,” he grunts out.
I motion him forward. I pull a hundred dollar bill out of my pocket and press it into his palm. “Santa said for you to buy some groceries for your brothers and sisters. And your grandma.”
The boy’s shoulders straighten and he says, “Yes, sir.”
I look around and see my brothers doing the same thing that I am. People are crying for joy in the street. Daniel has a woman almost knock him over when she jumps up to hug him. And Josh…well, Josh hasn’t passed out a single dollar yet. But I’m sure he will.
They open the doors to the shelter and people walk slowly inside. First, there will be a Christmas dinner. Then Santa will visit with all the kids. Then we’ll get to make some dreams come true. And I get to bask in the glow of it all.
“I love you, Logan,” Em says quietly.
“I love you, too,” I tell her. I kiss her quickly, and then we go inside. It’s time to start serving up meals.
Matt
Food first. Even as excited as these kids are to see Santa, they are even more anxious to fill their bellies. We serve up a full Christmas dinner. We have baskets of rolls on the tables, and real turkeys and lots of side dishes. My wife is walking around with Gracie asleep in a pouch on her chest, since she just finished feeding her. Once Gracie wakes up, she’ll start screaming her head off and we both know it. But for now, it’s peaceful.
I see Sky slip a hundred dollar bill to a homeless man. I recognize him because he begs on the street outside our shop all the time. He tries to hug her, and she lets him. I’m pretty sure no one else comes that close to him on a normal day. The smell will just about knock you over, but my wife knows what it means to feel lost and alone. She offers him comfort, even if only for a moment.
Paul stands up at the front of the room and taps a microphone.
“It’s our honor to spend Christmas Eve with you,” he says. The people go quiet at the sound of his words. “We know a lot of you from the neighborhood, and those of you that we don’t know, we want to get to know, so be sure to stop and talk with one of the elves walking around.” He motions in a circle around the room, and we all stop and look up.
“I remember when we were younger,” he continues. “I got custody of my four younger brothers, and I was pretty much alone. We had no Christmas tree that first year, and we had no presents to share with one another. My brothers drew a tree on the wall, and wrapped up pictures they made themselves out of crayons and markers. Then this community rallied around us, and someone brought in a real tree. Someone else brought food. And on Christmas morning, we woke up to find presents under our tree. We still have no idea who did that, but if any of you were part of it, we are thankful, and we’re happy to give back to this community, this group of people who cared for us and made sure we didn’t do without. Christmas is more than just a season. It’s more than unwrapping gifts and spending time with loved ones. It’s a reminder that we’re all here on earth to serve a purpose, and though we might not know what that purpose is today, someday we will, and it will all become clear. So if you’re feeling a little lost this Christmas, hang in there. It does get better.”