The Man in the Humbug Hat

I was working at a large downtown department store one Christmas.

It had been a busy season, and I was weary of the crowds, the noise and the stress. I was about to go on break when a man walked by the counter wearing a baseball cap that had "Ahh Humbug!" written on it in Old English script.

"I like your hat," I told him. "It suits my mood. I hate Christmas, all the crowds, the noise, running around trying to get everything done. Such a hassle. It's gotten to be so commercialized, and I'll be glad when it's over."

"Christmas has become shabby and tarnished? I know a story that might help you make it new again," he said, smiling.

"I'm on break right now," I told him. "I've got a few minutes, I guess."

"Come on down to the cafeteria, I'll buy you a cup and tell you my tale."

Once upon a time, not so long ago or very far away, there lived a man named Ray and his wife Mary. They were just ordinary people, no different than you or me.

It was a few weeks before Christmas, and he called the kids together one evening for the usual conference. Their kids were all older, and they didn't have to pretend anymore.

"OK, what would you like for Christmas? Is there something special you want?"

Each one told him what they wanted except Susan. "I'm sorry Dad, but I just can't get into Christmas this year." She began crying silently, wiping at the tears.

"Hey, hey, this will never do. You're supposed to be happy at Christmas. What's wrong?" His wife sat down by her and put her arm around her shoulder tenderly.

"What's happened, dear? How can we help?"

Susan tried hard to compose herself. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to spoil the mood for all of you. There's a girl in my class who comes to school every day and shivers for a long time each morning. She doesn't have a coat, and she and her husband are just barely making it. They have two little kids, and last year they didn't have any Christmas at all. They've tried to get help, but haven't been able to get welfare or anything. Since I found out about her, it's just ruined Christmas for me."

"What about their parents? Can't they help?"

"Their parents are all gone. They have a few cousins back East somewhere, but they've lost track of them."

He and his wife looked at each other. They weren't poor, but they'd never sponsored a family at Christmas.

Susan interrupted their silent communication. "Could we just take whatever you were going to spend on me and get her a coat, and maybe a couple of small toys for her kids? I could never enjoy any presents anyway, knowing that they had nothing."

The other kids were infected by Susan's melancholy. Karen had two kids of her own. "You can use what you were going to spend on me and the girls," she offered. "I have a coat, and they have lots of toys. We won't do without."

"The same goes for me, Mom," contributed Camille.

"Count me in," Steve said enthusiastically.

They didn't have to talk it over. They both knew what the other was thinking. "See if you can find out what sizes they all wear," Mary told her. "In the meantime, I think there's an old ski parka downstairs that you can take to her. At least she won't be cold anymore."

"She's about my size," Susan said, brightening a little. "Her husband is a little bigger than Steve, but not as big as Dad. The oldest boy is about four, and the other is two."

They became caught up in the spirit of the moment. "I've got a sweater that I don't wear any more," Camille offered. "It's still like new, and I bet it would fit her. Come on, Susan, let's try it on you." They ran down the hall together.

"I've got toys that I'm too old to play with," Steve added. "A few still have the boxes they came in. I'll get them out of the closet."

They didn't want to give anything that looked like a castoff, nothing worn or dirty would do. They went through the house looking for suitable things. The sweater could have past inspection as new. The parka was without blemish and still fashionable. A few of Steve's old toys didn't look as if he'd ever touched them. A coat that Ray had outgrown might fit her husband.

They gathered their finds, and took stock of their condition. "I didn't realize we took such good care of things," Mary said.

He was equally impressed. "I wouldn't feel ashamed to offer these things to someone, and I wouldn't feel bad receiving them. They look great. We'll pick up a few new things to go with them when we go shopping, and we'll be able to give them a Christmas that Santa would approve of."

Mary put her arm around Susan again. "Feel better now?" she said, hugging her gently.

"Yes, thanks. Thank you all. I was really dreading the idea of Christmas this year, but now I'm looking forward to it."

A few days later Susan came home with a list of the sizes they needed. "I was able to get them without Debbie knowing," she said happily. "I'd like to surprise them on Christmas Eve."

"Well, you're not going out there without us," Camille proclaimed.

"Got that right," Steve added.

"OK, we're all going to Debbie and Bill's for Christmas Eve, even if they don't know it. Now, does that make you all happy?" Their smiling faces revealed the answer.

They shopped for gifts for their adopted family with the same devotion they gave to the selection of gifts for each other. They didn't get all the gifts for themselves that they'd planned on, but later they couldn't say what they did without. Whatever it was, they didn't miss it.

By December 23, they had clothes for each member of Debbie and Bill's family. There was a new outfit for each, a coat for each, and enough toys to make the two boys happy. He thought they were done, but Susan came home in tears again.

"Dad, Bill lost his job yesterday."

"What kind of maggot would fire a person the week before Christmas?" he demanded.

"It's not like that, the company went bankrupt. They all lost their jobs. Debbie spent the day crying because she doesn't know how they'll get by until he can find another job."

Mary and he looked at each other again. "Is there anything left?" she asked quietly.

"I've still got some of my Christmas bonus. Somehow I don't want it now." He turned to Susan. "We can't give them everything they might need, but we can give a little, maybe enough to get them by. That's all we can do."

The next morning they went grocery shopping, determined to get the most for the money they had. The first store they hit set the pace with a sale on bread, ten cents a loaf. They got a dozen loaves. They picked up peanut butter and honey, salt, pepper and a few other spices.

Mary found a small turkey at a rock bottom price. They went to a warehouse store and got flour, sugar, rice, beans, pasta and spaghetti sauce. They bought detergent, toilet paper, paper towels, bars of soap, all the staples the cart would hold. They left with money still in their pockets. He used some of it to buy a box of chocolates.

They went home and ransacked the freezer and threw in hamburger, chicken and a few steaks. He loaded it all into boxes and filled the trunk of the car. What didn't fit in the trunk they put in the back seat. They finished as Susan came home and Karen and her kids pulled in the driveway.

"No room, no room in the Inn," Mary called out to them. They stared at the car, which by then was dragging its tail a little.

"The kids can ride with me, Mom," Karen told them.

They piled into her car and they set off for Debbie and Bill's through the snow covered streets.

They pulled into the driveway of the small house. A single string of lights decorated the front window, trying vainly to dispel the gloom.

Susan rang the doorbell while the rest of them waited out of sight. She hustled Debbie into the kitchen as they carried presents in and put them under a scraggly tree that was in the corner. The meager few grew to a healthy mound before they were done.

They began carrying in the groceries, and they stacked them on the kitchen table, the counter tops and finally put them on the floor. They put the frozen food in the small freezer, which they found almost bare.

Debbie stared at the mounds of food and housewares. "I don't know what to say," she said, as she began to cry.

"None of that, none of that," Mary said cheerfully. "Don't start, and we won't have to start." She handed her a tissue, and Debbie dabbed at her eyes. Bill came in from outside. He stared at the full house.

"What's all this?"

"Merry Christmas, Bill," Ray told him. "We just brought over a few things to brighten up the season."

Bill wandered into the living room, looking at the presents.

"This isn't real. People I don't know, total strangers, showing up on Christmas Eve, bringing groceries and presents. I can't believe it. People don't do this sort of thing."

"Yes, they do, at least sometimes. I can't always do this.

Last year I didn't have it to give. Next year...who knows. This year, we had it, and we wanted to share with you. Merry Christmas."

They left him still confused, lost in a blizzard of disbelief.

Later that evening they sat before the fire, sipping spiced cider. Laura looked glum.

"What's the matter with you?" Ray teased her.

"One of the neighbor kids told her there's no Santa Claus, and she's bummed out about it," Karen reported.

He took her on his knee, and held her for a minute. "There most certainly is a Santa Claus," he told her. "I saw him just this morning."

"Did he have a snow white beard, Grandpa?"

"No, he was clean shaven. And he wasn't fat, either."

"Really?" she said, perking up. He raised his arm as if swearing an oath.

"So help me. I wouldn't lie, not about this. It's against the grandfather's code."

"Good, I'm glad. I'm going to tell Sharon tomorrow. She's wrong."

After they left, Mary took him by the hand. "Did you like the way we were guided today?" she asked.

"You noticed it, too. I never found so many bargains in my life before. I realize now that Christmas isn't about toys, shopping, the music, the presents, fruitcake, candy and turkey."

Mary nodded. "We've been looking at Christmas through a microscope. It's about caring, sharing and giving. I think Christmas is a celebration of love. By the way, just where did you see Santa Claus this morning?"

"In the bathroom, when I was shaving."

"So why the hat? Your story is about loving and sharing but your hat says 'Humbug'. How come?"

He chuckled. "This hat fools a lot of people. It doesn't say 'Humbug' at all. Look closer."

I looked closer. He was right, it didn't say 'Humbug'. The 'H' and the 'B' were transposed.

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