* * *
Tommy found the church and brought the plant up the aisle to the nativity scene. He looked around and realized that the church was similar to the one he had seen several Christmases ago. He recognized the lady from the hospital, the one who wanted to pray for her husband, sitting in the second row. She was crying and wiping her eyes with a tissue.
His mom had been so sick lately that he had forgotten it was Christmas Eve, at least until Sister Imelda had reminded him. He didn’t think people should be sad at Christmas. It made him feel bad that the lady was crying. His mom was sad too. He missed her smile, and the hugs. She seemed too tired to hug him lately.
He looked toward the statue of baby Jesus lying in the bed of straw. He placed the poinsettia plant next to it and said, “For you. It’s all I have to give, but I need your help. Could you make my mom better? She’s sad, been really sick lately. Can you make that go away?” He gestured over his shoulder. “And that lady over there is worried about her husband.” He hesitated for a moment, as if embarrassed to continue. “He’s sick and needs your help too. Can you make him better so she won’t feel so bad on your birthday?”
He thought he saw movement. Had the face of the baby turned slightly to look at him? That seemed silly to him. He looked around the church. It looked pretty decorated for the holiday. He smiled and realized that he felt good all of a sudden. It had been a long time since he felt this happy.
* * *
After what seemed like hours, Dr. Lawrence strolled down the hall and the nurse introduced him to Margaret, said that she was Madeline Morgan’s sister. He fielded some questions from Margaret regarding her sister’s diagnosis and suggested that they walk down to her room.
They entered Madeline’s room and Dr. Lawrence got permission to discuss her case with family. He then explained that the cancer had metastasized and that there was little more they could do other than keep her comfortable and as pain-free as possible. He brought up the subject of hospice.
“Not so fast, Dr. Lawrence,” Margaret said. “I have another solution. I happen to be married to a doctor, a brilliant man who’s involved in medical research, cancer research specifically. Currently, he’s conducting a clinical trial with a new drug therapy to treat metastatic breast cancer. He says his results are amazing, a true breakthrough in cure rates.”
“Will he be able to include your sister in his study?”
“While I was waiting to speak with you, I called him. He’s agreed to include her. If you’ll release Madeline, I’ll bring her and Tommy home with me. They’ll stay with us and my husband will treat her.”
“It’s pretty advanced,” the doctor said. “Her chances for recovery are slim at best.”
Margaret looked over at her sister, who seemed to be regarding her with familial pride. “I thought I’d lost her a long time ago,” Margaret said, “but she’s back in my life now. It’s only been my husband and me. Then I find out I still have my sister, and a nephew.” She turned back to the doctor. “I can’t lose her all over again. I know the odds, but I feel sure we’ll beat them.”
At that point, Tommy gently opened the door and looked in. He seemed confused about the people in the room. “Mom, what’s going on?”
Madeline smiled the best smile Tommy had seen in months and said, “I’d like you to meet your Aunt Margaret.”
“I thought we were all alone, just us, with no other family in the world.”
“I’ll explain later, but for now you should know that we’ll never be alone again. Aunt Margaret will take us home with her. She’ll take care of you and her husband will work hard to make me well again.”
Margaret walked over to her nephew. She looked at him and bent down so they were eye to eye. “I’m so glad to meet you, Tommy.” She smiled the same way his mom used to. “I have a feeling you and I will have a great time taking care of your mother.” She reached out and hugged him, a familiar hug like the kind he remembered from his mom.
Tommy looked at his mom. She was giving him her happy smile.
He thought maybe he should find out where he could get another poinsettia plant because he realized that his new aunt deserved a magical gift, too.
The End
FROM SADNESS TO JOY
Joseph C. Ackerman
My name is Andrew Grecco. My wife, Martha and I have two teenage children. Kristi is fourteen and a freshman in high school. Tony is now a senior, ready to enter college on a scholarship in a nearby school next year.
We are a close family and love having family get-togethers for the holidays at our home. These gatherings begin with Thanksgiving dinner and end with Christmas supper. Martha’s mother and her two sisters, with their husbands and children, all live close enough to share in the celebrations. And, as the saying goes, ‘it wouldn’t be the holidays without them.’
I was an only child and my parents have long since passed on. I consider myself fortunate to have such a loving extended family that these people have brought me. From Martha’s mother, Greta, to her two sisters Joy and Mary Katherine, our happiest days are at this time of year when we’re all together.
Last year, Tony learned to drive, with much coaching from me. He passed the driver’s written test and got a perfect score on his driving test. I have to admit that he is a terrific driver and I thoroughly trust him with the family car.
On the Saturday night after Thanksgiving, we received the horrific phone call from the hospital, telling us that our son was in a severe accident and was in a deep coma. It was then, that our world turned upside down. Immediately, Martha and I headed to the hospital, not knowing what to expect. The trip was slow and painful. It was difficult to keep my thoughts on driving as I moved to my destination. Even though it was late at night, we barely noticed the bright festive lights in the city before we entered the long freeway drive to the hospital.
During the twenty minute ride, neither Martha nor I could utter a word. Our thoughts were deeply silent; no one dared to express the sadness with words. I did notice Martha’s tears when I briefly looked at her, but my concentration now, needed to be on the road.
In what seemed like an hour of constant driving, we were there in the usual twenty minutes. Soon, we would find out all the details of the accident.
When we arrived on the third floor of the hospital, we found our son’s room. Tony was lying there, hooked up to a machine, with a number of wires placed in his head. Naturally, he would not be able to speak to us; but in the far corner of the room, there was someone who could fill us in on what exactly happened.
Susan Grimes, Tony’s date that night, was sitting there. She was shaken by the accident, yet appeared to be in pretty good shape, considering the severity of the wreck.
As we moved a little closer, we could see that she was hurt. Her left arm was in a sling and she had her head bandaged all around. We also noticed that she had been crying. Her eyes were wet with dripping mascara.
She noticed we were in the room and started to rise to greet us, but fell back in her chair. She seemed a little dizzy. Martha and I quickly rushed to her, giving her a few words of encouragement. She was not thinking of herself, but had great concern for Tony’s condition. She explained that on the way back home from the movie theater, Tony was safely driving up an incline at normal speed. Suddenly, a car crossed over to their lane and almost hit them head on. But, seconds before the crash, Tony had swerved to the right, so that the other car hit our son’s car on the driver’s side. This sent his car flying down an embankment and landing upside down. Susan was protected by her seatbelt, but Tony’s belt broke from the impact of the other car. His injuries were much more serious and only time would tell if he would make it.
After she was given help and it was determined she was in pretty good shape, they allowed her to go up to Tony’s room while she waited for her parents to pick her up.
Not long after we were there, an orderly came to take her to her parents. Martha and I helped
her into a wheelchair the orderly brought with him. Slowly she moved into the hallway. I could see there was probably a lot of rehab ahead for her, but I thought it was fortunate that she could, at least, go home and not have to stay in the hospital. We wished her a speedy recovery and told her to keep us aware of how she was doing. But now, we had to face our son’s situation and plan our future days as best we could.
That year, Christmas supper would not take place at our house, but at Martha’s sister, Joy’s house. The same Turkey dinner would be eaten, along with the dressing, vegetables and of course Pumpkin pie. Our time would be spent in caring for Tony.
We brought Kristi in to see her brother the following day. She proved to be quite a mature, young lady and such a comfort to us. As soon as she entered Tony’s room, she went over to him, took his right hand and began talking to him.
“Tony, I miss you so much. You have helped me along, adjusting to my first year of high school. Now, I want you to know this before anything else. I’ve always loved you, but only, really appreciated you, as my brother, when I entered this freshman year. You have helped me so much by preparing me for my classes. I always hated math, but you taught me to enjoy learning it, with your explanations of the most difficult lessons.”
“I want to thank you for being there when I needed help, and for just being you, my big brother. Deep, down inside, I know you can hear me. You’ll get through this all right. I’ll always be thinking of you. My thoughts and prayers are with you. Very soon, I want to see you up and about.”
With those words, Kristi went back to her mother. They slowly hugged each other and silently wept.
The days passed without any change in Tony’s condition. All of the relatives visited as often as they could. That Christmas was a most somber one. The festivities were low-keyed, because our minds were concentrating on our son’s life. Was he going to recover or were we going to lose him? It was not a time for the Grecco Family to be rejoicing.
I kept working and would visit Tony every night. Needless to say, my mind wasn’t there at the office. Everyone had, by now, heard of the accident and expressed positive thoughts for Tony’s recovery. I appreciated their concern. My boss even allowed me to leave early so that I could spend extra time at the hospital.
Martha did not have a job outside the home. She was always there for the kids. She was a great mother, very dependable. With Kristi being on vacation, it was nice that she had her mother there, especially in this time of need. Martha’s sisters were also there for great support. Joy and Mary Katherine were counted on, because of their love and understanding, to give Martha the courage to face this ordeal. My wife would always say how good it was to have sisters that she honestly enjoyed being around.
Day after day, night after night, there was no change. Tony was still in his coma. Soon, we’ll be in another new year. What will that bring? How much longer can we go on like this?
It was soon December thirty-first, the last day of 2012. Another celebration was coming; another year to hope. In my visit that night, I spoke to Tony about the future.
“Seventeen years ago when your mother and I gave birth to you, it was the happiest day of my life. You were my pride and joy. Now, as I see you lying here, I’m so sad. I want to tell you to keep trying to reach us. I just know that you do have the will to come back. You know that all of us are sending positive thoughts your way.”
“I’m not a religious man, so I leave the praying to the rest of the family. Your mother is so into holding onto her faith and is constantly praying that your recovery will be soon. Her sisters have joined with her in this time of need and have been a great comfort to her.”
“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. I do know that you’ve had the best care from the doctors and nurses. Everyone has done the best they could, given the circumstances. Only time, now, can give us the answer.”
“You’ve been such a kind and wonderful son, Tony. It’s now up to you to return to us. Please, spend this New Year with us. Let us hear your voice once again. Bring joy back into our lives.”
With these words I reached down and held my son with a big hug and I tearfully kissed him on the forehead. Afterwards, Martha and I, silently and slowly walked out of the room.
Tony continued to be on our minds. In the New Year, days passed with our same routine. He was still with us and best of all, we were with him.
On February 3 of this year, things improved. Tony came out of his coma. From then on, he could communicate with his family for the first time since his accident. It was so wonderful to hear him speak again. Though he spoke more slowly, we had all the time in the world to listen. We encouraged him to express himself vocally, no matter how difficult. Eventually, his speech improved and the clearness of his voice filled our hearts with joy.
It took him a few months of rehab to get back most of the physical strength he needed. This was done as an outpatient, so he was home at last. He caught up on his studies with the lessons the teachers gladly gave him so he wouldn’t get behind in his school work. Tony was an A student and he kept that A with those assignments he did at home.
After Spring Break, Tony was able to return to school, full time. He was caught up in all his classes and didn’t have to attend summer school. We had our son back. He was still the same great kid. For us, life was full of much joy and happiness. Kristi was right all along. She knew that Tony would fully recover.
Now was another Thanksgiving, almost a year since the life-changing accident. I was seated at the head of the table. Seeing that everyone was here, there was not a sad face in the crowd.
I stood and began to speak. “Thank you all for coming to our special Thanksgiving Dinner. Every one of you here, has known and felt the ordeal this family has gone through this past year. It’s now time to thank you for your kind thoughts and the great help you all gave us.”
“Kay, all your loving time and also the use of your house for the Christmas feast last year, was such a help in making that holiday seem ‘normal.’ It let us keep our family tradition going, with all the family together at such a trying time. Thank you, so much.”
“Every one of you was able to visit Tony in the hospital. And Martha told me that you had your various places of worship send Tony their thoughts and prayers. Our whole family deeply appreciated this. We’ve all had our ups and downs. But this showed how family ties are important and can have positive outcomes even in the worst situations. Love does conquer all.”
“I also want to give a special thanks to my daughter, Kristi. She calmly showed us how to communicate in a loving way. She has truly grown up and has become such a beautiful person. Her belief in her brother’s strength gave us hope. Kristi, you are so special.”
“My wife, Martha showed the endurance that was needed to get through this time. She never complained. Day in and day out, she was there for all of us. Martha, thank you for being a good mother, sister and wife.”
“Last, but not least, is Tony. Thank you for coming through this ordeal and returning to us. You were in pretty bad shape, son. But now, you’ve recovered completely and even kept up with your school work. I’m so proud of you, Tony. You are a fine young man. We all love you.”
“So today, the Grecco Family has a lot to be thankful for. May these family traditions, which bring us so much joy, continue for many years to come!” Now, let’s eat!”
The End
CHRISTMAS MEMORIES OF ROME
Judith Works
When it’s October here in the Pacific Northwest, the leaves are just beginning to turn. But in between the store shelves packed with skulls and ghouls for Halloween, I am confronted by red poinsettias, artificial pre-decorated Christmas trees, and wrapping paper emblazoned with snowflakes or toy soldiers. These products compete for space, overwhelming the few Thanksgiving decorations. The holiday shopping frenzy is already on red alert.
I prefer
a slower pace – one more like the celebrations my husband and I enjoyed in Rome. When November rolls around I begin to check my gift list and think about sending cards to friends overseas. And I pause to remember our Roman-style celebrations that didn’t begin until mid-December. No endless music loops of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer or White Christmas to assault the ears. No Deck the Halls or God Rest Ye’ Merry Gentlemen, and hardly any Christmas trees or cards with a snowy Santa or perky birds on berried branches. The Italian version of Christmas was so different from our family traditions with a big tree, loads of presents, Christmas crackers and plum pudding doused with brandy to be set alight and served while the blue flames still flickered.
Instead, I remember the delightful Christmas market filling the spacious Piazza Navona, with toys, candy and figures of wizened old grannies called befane who are said to fly through the air astride broomsticks. La Befana is the witch who brings Christmas treats to children if they are good and coal if they’re not. She arrives on the night of January 5th to ensure that the gifts are ready on Epiphany morning in remembrance of the Gifts of the Magi. But no worries – the “coal” on display is really black candy, so bambini are never very worried.
When we strolled in the piazza, the sounds of happy children echoed off the magnificent buildings surrounding the area, and mixed with the one-sided conversations from their parents’ cell phones and the sound of falling water from the three sparkling fountains.
Different sounds came from smaller piazzas where shepherds from the Abruzzi Mountains just east of Rome came to play their bagpipes, zampogna. The Zampogneri are traditionally dressed in knickers, cross-wrapped leggings and wool capes. We suspected that the outfits were only brought out during the holidays, and that, rather than returning to lonely flocks in the hills, the musicians tooled off in their Fiats to cozy homes and televisions to recuperate from their day collecting coins that we willingly donated after listening to their haunting music.
The life-sized Nativity scene by the obelisk in front of St. Peters was always beautiful as it rested within the welcoming arms of Bernini’s magnificent statue-topped colonnade. But the exhibition of about 200 presepi in Santa Maria del Popolo, famed for its two Caravaggio paintings, was more intimate and even sometimes amusing with little figurines dressed in native costumes from the world over. Nativity displays have been a tradition in Italy since at least the time of St. Francis in the 1200s. The best and most elaborate come from Via San Gregorio Armeno, a narrow street in the old section of Naples, Spaccanapoli, where artisans devote themselves to creating an amazing variety of theatrical characters – peasants in 18th Century dress with their carts and wheelbarrows, animals, cheeses, sausages, and baskets of fishes. They and their bounty surround the Holy Family who are sheltered under an elaborate lean-to and guarded by hovering angels wearing swirling Baroque robes.