After a long week of Christmas preparation at church and a whirlwind of last-minute shopping, this Christmas Eve has ebbed into the quiet hush of a neighborhood in South Carolina in a warm home where my three teenagers are all fast asleep; with the eldest home from college there is nothing quite like having all the kids under the same roof at the same time. The Christmas lights are still on at every house, and my neighbor's spotlight is on his flag pole as it's been shining ever since he raised his American flag. The stockings have not yet been filled, but it won't be long before I'll be drifting off to sleep, too.
There is no better time for me to find the words to share a story my mother in Maine told me tonight on the phone. She had gone down to my sister and brother-in-law's home for their annual Christmas Eve tradition, a truly Maine meal of lobsters with roast beef for a truly "surf & turf" holiday meal. My family is especially happy this Christmas, as my youngest niece, Maggie, just got engaged to her terrific boyfriend Karl- we met him this summer and truly approve- it'll be nice to have yet another Red Sox fan in the family!
As my far-away family sat around the table, my sister Pammy told everyone the story that another Bath resident had told her about his experience being "Santa" this year at a celebration up town. Her friend is a big guy, and an obvious choice as a Santa. (I won't name names to give his identity away, the real Santa sends out his special friends to help with this job, and prefers them to remain anonymous.) He had the usual request for baby dolls and video games, and since it's Maine, sleds and ice skates topped the list, too.
Then, a wee, tiny little girl walked up to Santa's lap. He looked down at her little face and asked her, "What would you like Santa to bring you this year?"
She looked up at him, and in her sweet little voice whispered, "Peace."
He was speechless for a moment, and then asked, "What did you say, honey?"
"I want peace for Christmas, then my Daddy can come home."
As my sister Pammy told the story, my mom said that there wasn't a dry eye around the table. My own eyes certainly filled with tears just from hearing the story retold.
He went on to tell Pammy that it felt like someone had just reached inside his chest and pulled out his heart. He didn't know what to say, but then finally told the little girl, "I don't know if Santa can do that, but when I get to the North Pole I'll say a lot of prayers for you. It's way up at the top of the Earth so God will be able to really hear me."
As I type this story my eyes are filling once again.
Merry Christmas, little girl that I've never met. I'll say some prayers that you receive that special gift, and that your Daddy and all his fellow soldiers will come home safe and sound.
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