It was Christmas Eve. Stars twinkled down from the heavens almost as a halo over the lighted streets as crowds hurried from store to store in frantic last minute shopping efforts.
A chilly wind of winter, carrying a slight scent of holly and pine, blew boisterously at times, tilting Nathan Lessen's hat while he walked toward home, arms loaded with gifts for his grandchildren.
He turned the corner panting noticeably, and lumbered up the steps of the second house on the street. The place was dark as usual, only tonight it seemed more so. He dumped the packages down on the porch while he fumbled in his pocket for the keys, and unlocked the door. He switched on the light and looked anxiously at his watch - one hour and a halt until plane time.
Nathan's mood changed for the better. He was going to spend one whole week with his daughter, Christy, and his three grandchildren. He could almost hear Janey saying in her coy way, "Did Santa leave any presents at your house, Grandpa?" Mike and Terry would be all ears when she asked. He whistled a jaunty tune as he hurried to the bedroom. Claire's picture on the dresser smiled up at him when he turned on the light. He smiled back at her. He could now, ten months after her death. He had schooled himself to think about the happy years they had spent together, the long quiet evenings they had enjoyed, sometimes talking, sometimes just content being together. He thought, too, about the years he had spent as a young marriage counsellor. Of Claire's faith in him, and her willingness to face hardships. Finally, he turned from the photograph, pulled a suitcase from the closet, unwrapped his packages, including a long haired blonde doll for Janey. From another box, he removed a Santa suit, and gently folded it around the doll.
He had barely finished packing when the phone rang. He first inclination was to let it ring in case some client was trying to locate him. Then it occurred to him that no one would call on Christmas Eve. It must be Christy. He picked up the receiver and said "Hello?"
"Mr Lessen?" He heard a low whisper.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"I…I hate to bother you," the voice seemed far away.
"This is Lesson," he said gruffly, "Who…..?"
"Mrs Donaldson. I'm sorry….but…."
Mrs Donaldson? Sure he remember her, she was a client of several months back, married to a rather irresponsible chap. She was a lovely person. He remembered suggesting that her husband needed to see a medical doctor. Why would she be calling him? "I'm sorry, Mrs Donaldson, I'm in a bit of a hurry, I have a plane to catch."
"I don't know what to do," she sobbed. "My…little girl. She's ill."
"Then call a doctor." He was losing patience.
- 2 -
"Please don't hang up," she pleaded. "You said if ever I needed you…"
Nathan sighed. He probably had said that. He felt sorry for the family, but he didn't suppose she would ever really call him.
"What can I do?" he asked, tyring to hide his impatience.
"She….Lory….is crying for Seth, her father. He's gone."
"Where?" Nathan asked.
"He's probably just walking. I don't know when he'll be home. Maybe not tonight and its Christmas Eve. Lory may not be here for the next one." Her voice was pleading.
"I'll do my best," he said, glancing down at his watch. "But my plane leaves in about an hour."
A talkative cab driver picked him up ten minutes later. They drove up one street, down another, searching, with no results. It was thirty minutes now until plane time. There was nothing left to do but go by and tell Mrs Donaldson her husband was not on the streets. Then he would leave town and forget other peoples troubles.
He almost ran up the stairs of the old apartment house a few minutes later and knocked on the door of Mrs Donaldson's apartment. A frail blonde woman of about twenty-two opened he door. "Did you find him?" she cried.
"No. Why did he leave tonight……on Christmas Eve?"
She wiped a tear from her cheek. "He said he couldn't stand to see her so ill. But she's better now."
"Why isn't she in a hospital?" Nathan asked.
"The doctor said she'd be happier at home with us over Christmas. Oh, Mr Lesson…..I.."
"I'm sorry, Mrs Donaldson," he said half apologetically. "I must catch my plane." And he whirled around to descend the steps. He stopped suddenly when he heard a pitful cry coming from the bedroom. "Daddy?" He looked at the young mother.
The cry came again. This time Nathan moved up one step, then brushed past the tearful woman and disappeared into the bedroom. Tiptoeing quietly over to the bed, he bent down in the semi-darkened room, and asked tenderly, "How are you, Lory?"
"Daddy, you came," she breathed.
"Of course baby," he said. "Now you rest."
"Daddy, has Santa come yet?"
- 3 -
Nathan looked at Mrs Donaldson. She shook her head. "Not yet," he said. "But he will, what do you want?"
She waited a minute to answer. "A doll with curls like Mommy's" she whispered.
"Well you just go back to sleep, sweatheart, and Santa will be her."
"Wake me up when he comes," she said sleepily.
"God bless you," the young mother said as he passed her. "Now you must hurry to your plane."
He looked back for a moment at the pale little figure lying on the bed. "I have a Santa suit," he said hoarsley.
"Your plane, you'll miss it."
He was halfway down the first flight of stairs before he stopped to answer. His reddish face, still flushed from the climb up, broke into an agreeable smile. "It's in my bag," he called back to her.
When he returned to the apartment, dressed in his Santa garb, Mrs Donaldson seemed not to notice him. Kneeling by the table, her head bowed. He crept reverently past her into the child's room, and whispered softly as he bent over her, "Darling, Santa is here."
To his amazement, the child's eyes flew open. "Where?" she asked feebly.
Nathan leaned down again. "Well, well, young lady," he said in a deep voice. "Have you been a good girl?"
She smiled slightly. "Yes, sir," she whispered.
"Then I have a doll for you," he said. He placed the doll he had purchased for Janey on the bed beside Lory. "You like her?"
The girl's face broke into a happy smile. She's the most beautiful doll," she cried with new strength. After a moment, she half smiled again. "Can I touch your whiskers, Santa Claus?"
"You barely have time to catch your plane," Mrs Donaldson spoke softly from the door. "Please…."
Nathan straightened up. If he missed that plane, he'd have to spend the night alone at his apartment…..alone on Christmas Eve. He'd never spent Christmas Eve without his family. He couldn't now.
"May I?" the tiny voice asked again.
- 4 -
Nathan looked at Mrs Donaldson, then back down at Lory. Then he bent down again and said kindly, "Of course you can, Lory." With effort she lifted her hand to his face, "Thank you, Santa," she sighed. "I love you, and my doll."
"You be well by next Christmas, do you hear?" he said, moving toward the door. "I'll have to go now. It's a busy night, you know."
"Can I kiss you good-bye till next time?" she pleaded.
Nathan smiled. "Why, yes, Lory," he said, bending down again over the tiny figure.
"Now my dollie," she said.
"Naturally we couldn't forget her," he laughed. Janey had so much, she would never miss the doll he had brought for her. He was glad he had given it to Lory.
"I must go now," he said, hurrying to the door, and to Mrs Donaldson he said, "May I use your phone? Perhaps the plane is late."
"I'll never forgive myself if I have caused you to miss it."
Nathan smiled at her. "I'm glad that you called, Mrs Donaldson. Service to others was one of the great messages of the One we are commemorating. I'm sorry I couldn't do more."
He dialed the airport's numbers and asked if Fight 689 has departed. The man who answered hesitated several moments, then asked, "Did you have passage on that flight?"
"Yes, and I was wondering if it might be late."
There was another pause, then the man on the other end of the line said, "Yes, it has departed, but there has been an accident."
"An accident?" Nathan caught his breath.
"We've had no report on how serious it is yet," the man said. "I can't tell you more." He hung up.
Nathan looked about him. Mrs Donaldson had returned to her child's side. He tried to stand, but his legs buckled under him. He throat felt parched. Finally, he pulled himself up, and slowly make his way toward the stairs. Mrs Donaldson called after him. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes," he said.
"God bless you Mr Lesson. Have a Happy Christmas with your family," her voice sang out. "You've cheered Lory so much."
He stood outside looking up at the starry sky for a long time. He must hurry home and call Christy. There was a train he could take at midnight.