Good Morning Everyone,
Thanks Chuck, how could I possibly forget it, every time I slip there are hundreds out there that grab me!!
Todays story is about a gift, enjoy!!
<<<<<<<<<<<<< Tissue Alert >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Todays Story:
Sing We Noel
The year of my tenth birthday marked the first time
that our entire family had jobs. Dad had been laid off from
his regular employment, but found painting and carpentry
work all around town. Mom sewed fancy dresses and baked pies
for folks of means and I worked after school and weekends
for Mrs. Brenner, a neighbor who raised cocker spaniels. I
loved my job, especially the care and feeding of her frisky
litters of puppies. Proudly, I gave my earnings to Mom to
help out, but the job was such fun, I would have worked for
no pay at all.
I was content during these "hard times" to wear thrift
shop dresses and faded jeans. I waved good-by to puppies
going to fancy homes with no remorse. But that all changed
when the Christmas litter arrived in the puppy house. These
six would be the last available pups until after Christmas.
As I stepped into the house for their first feeding, my
heart did a flip flop. One shiny red puppy with sad brown
eyes wagged her tail and bounced forward to greet me.
"Looks as if you have a friend already," Mrs. Brenner
chuckled. "You'll be in charge of her feedings."
"Noel," I whispered, holding the pup close to my heart,
sensing instantly that she was something special. Each day
that followed forged an inexplicable bond between us.
Christmas was approaching, and one night, at dinner, I
was bubbling over about all of Noel's special qualities for
about the hundredth time.
"Listen, Kiddo," Dad put down his fork. "Perhaps
someday you can have a puppy of your own, but now times are
very hard. You know I've been laid off at the plant. If it
wasn't for the job I've had this month remodeling Mrs.
Brenner's kitchen, I don't know what we'd do."
"I know, Dad, I know." I couldn't bear the pained
expression on his face.
"We'll have to brave it out this year," he sighed.
By Christmas Eve, only Noel and a large male remained.
"They're being picked up later," Mrs. Brenner explained. "I
know the family taking Noel," she continued. She'll be
raised with tons of love." No one could love her as much as
I did, I thought. No one.
"Can you come tomorrow morning? I'll be weaning new
pups the day after Christmas. Mop the floor with pine, and
spread fresh bedding for the new litter. Would you be a dear
and feed the kennel dogs too? I'll have a house full of
guests. Oh, and ask your Dad to stop over with you. One of
the kitchen cabinet doors needs a little adjustment. He did
such a beautiful job that I'1l enjoy showing it off!"
I nodded my head, barely able to focus on her words.
The new puppies would be cute, but there'd never be another
Noel. Never. The thought of someone else raising my puppy
was almost too much to bear.
Christmas morning, after church, we opened our meager
gifts. Mom modeled the apron I made her in home economics
with a flair befitting a Paris gown. Dad raved about the
watchband I gave him. It wasn't even real leather, but he
replaced his frayed band and admired it as if it was golden.
He handed me the book "Beautiful Joe," and I hugged them
both. They had no gifts for each other. What a sad
Christmas, with all of us pretending that it wasn't.
After breakfast, Dad and I changed clothes to go to
Mrs. Brenner's. On our short walk, we chatted and waved to
passing neighbors, each of us deliberately avoiding the
subjects of Christmas and puppies.
Dad waved good-by as he headed toward the Brenner's
kitchen door. I walked directly to the puppy house in the
back yard. It was strangely silent, no puppy growls, tiny
barks nor rustling paper. It felt as sad and dreary as I
did. My head gave the order to begin cleaning, but in my
heart I wanted to sit down on the lonely floor and bawl.
It's funny looking back at childhood days. Some events
are fuzzy, the details sketchy and faces indistinct. But I
remember returning home that Christmas afternoon so clearly;
entering the kitchen with the aroma of pot roast simmering
on the stove, Mom clearing her throat and calling to Dad who
suddenly appeared in the dining room doorway.
With an odd huskiness in his voice, he whispered,
"Merry Christmas, Kiddo," and smiling, he gently placed
Noel, clad in a red bow, into my arms. My parent's love for
me merged with my overwhelming love for Noel and sprang from
my heart, like a sparkling fountain of joy. At that moment,
it became, without a doubt, absolutely the most wonderful
Christmas I have ever had.
By Toni Fulco
Enjoy the last 5 days of the decade, century, and millennium!!!!! A lot happens Friday.......
wb |
