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A Little Thing Can Mean So Much | By E. J. Beck

Bert didn't celebrate Christmas anymore. It wasn't that he disliked Christmas; it was just that he didn't have anyone to celebrate it with, so why bother? He went to dinner with relatives and participated in the family gatherings, but he didn't decorate the house, didn't put out any decorations, didn't put up a tree; Christmas was just another day.

It hadn't always been like this. He used to have his family around him, and they always had a very nice Christmas. Bert, his wife, and their children had always decorated the house, put out seasonal lawn ornaments, and a large Christmas tree, brightly decorated with many ornaments, some store bought, but also many home-made by family members over the years. There were some of these that had survived for several generations; each being carefully wrapped and put away after the season. Away but not forgotten, and they would be unwrapped and put on the tree the next year. Each brought back a particular memory about the events that happened when they had been made, but most important the people that had been a part of making them.

All of this had ended several years ago. Bert's children were grown, had families and lives of their own. Then several years ago, his wife of nearly half-a-century had been incapacitated and was in a personal care home. Last year she passed away; and now Bert was truly alone, and had no reason to celebrate.

Except for the fact that he wasn't really 'alone'. He often had the company of two next-door children, now ages 8 and 4. These girls would brighten his day by bursting into his house, greeting him, asking for a cookie, and selecting which children's program to watch from the many that he had recorded for them. The girls would provide company, and give him someone to amuse him and occupy his time. Some of Bert's relatives had expressed the opinion that the girls' single mother was taking advantage of Bert, by having the girls spend so much time with him, but listening to him tell about what was going on, I've often felt that he enjoyed the company; and unbeknownst to the girls, they were providing a pleasant interlude to Bert's otherwise monotonous day. The 8 year old would come to his house after school each day, and tell him about her day. Sometimes when I phoned Bert, he would mention what 'his girls' were doing.

So, when Bert asked the girls about what their Christmas tree would be like, he was informed that they never had a tree. Their mother said that a tree cost too much, and this year the price of trees was even higher, so they couldn't afford a tree. This just wouldn't do. 'No little girl should be without a Christmas tree', was his thought. He had a solution. He had a fairly nice artificial tree in the garage, which hadn't been used in years. He dug it out, and asked the mother if he could put it up in their house. But there were no ornaments. So Bert got out the ornaments that his family had accumulated over several decades, which had not been used for the past several years, and went through them. 

When Bert's daughter Jenny, was at his home, she helped sort the ornaments. Some were very old home-made family ornaments, which had to be kept aside, but others were store-bought, and would be alright in small hands. Bert was delighted by the expressions on the girl's faces, as he and Jenny handed them each ornament. 

When they went back to their home, Bert had to show the girls how to put a hook on an ornament, how to hang it on a branch, and how to place the ornaments around the tree, to make it a true work of art. He was pleased by the response of the girls, the expression on their faces, and how happy they were by the whole experience. Bert was happy. He had done something special for 'his girls', and it was a good feeling to have someone to share the experience of Christmas preparations with him again. Life was good; at least for now.

The next day, the girls and their mother were going to be out for most of the day, and Bert was asked to stop over to let their dog out for a run. This was a normal for him to do when the neighbor's would not be home.

 Bert opened their door and walked into the room, and was dumbstruck. There, under the tree, were blankets and two pillows. Apparently the girls had slept under their tree. It's hard to imagine what an emotional man like Bert would feel when looking at the scene. He just stood there with tears running down his face. It had seemed like such a thing when he offered his unused tree; but it had apparently meant a lot to 'his girls'.

The girl's mother later verified that they had asked if they could sleep under their tree; and Mom was very thankful for the great gift that her daughters had received. Sometimes one small gesture can mean so much to others.

Merry Christmas. 


Copyright, E. J. Beck, February 06, 2023. 
Unauthorized use or copying is strictly prohibited without the authors written permission.

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