Chapter 15
"Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright..." The congregation sang in wonderful peace and harmony. Chris, for the first time, knew the hymn and didn't feel awkward being the only one not singing.
It was Christmas Eve and the entire town had come together to celebrate the birth of Christ.
As he sang, Chris looked around to the people of the town. The people in one way or another who have impacted his life.
The Browley family, first and foremost. Ruth and George Browley who had stepped in to become the most loving parents. Mason and Priscilla, the brother and sister he'd always dreamed of. Hanna, of course, the love of his life and the only person he'd imagined spending eternity with.
William and Rebecca Moyor, close friends who would drop anything they were doing to come to the aid of the family. Louis Kinsley, although a little backward, the nicest man Chris had met in Coar.
He also spotted the school teacher, Ms. Elizabeth Rougen, who had been working assiduously getting Hanna prepared to take over the school house the next fall. She seemed excited about her move to Minneapolis but everyone saw the pain in her eyes when she spoke of leaving the children of Coar.
He watched Tyler and Sarah Pike, still fairly young but childless, holding one another lovingly as they swayed to the carol.
Emma May Long who just took over the boardinghouse from her elderly aunt and uncle stood next to the Pike family. She was young but not attractive. Her gentle, loving spirit made her beautiful, however.
Margaret Johanson had miraculously healed from her broken hip and stood proudly next to her son, Edward, who had traveled from Chicago to spend Christmas with his mother.
Jonathon and Betty Edmund stood at the front pew with their son Cale. Chris liked the Edmund family but still had daggers for Cale, who in turn, still had a few for Chris. They had not spoken since their altercation at the harvest dance when Cale took Chris down in front of the whole town.
“He’s the one that looks like the fool, then. There’s no glory in revenge.” Chris remembered Mr. Browley telling him several times after.
‘No matter.’ Chris thought as the congregation finished the song. ‘It’s Christmas and I cannot wait to give Hanna her gift.’ the thought excited him but made him extremely nervous at the same time.
“Let us turn to the second chapter in Luke [10].” Pastor Franklin Walling announced when everyone had taken their seats.
“I never tire of hearing this story.” Hanna whispered thumbing through near the end of her Bible.
The pastor began reading the story of Jesus’ birth, the first Christmas. “...but the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger‘...”
The entire community listened intently as if they’d been hearing the story for the first time. The soft glow of the lanterns as well as the Advent Candles on the front table, set the mood of peace upon everyone snuggled together in the pews.
After the story and a few words from the pastor, everyone rose to sing ‘Away in a Manger’ then said the last evening prayers.
“Glory to God in the highest and on Earth peace to men on whom His favor rests.” Pastor Walling concluded. “Go now, in peace. Have a blessed and safe Christmas.”
With a slight mumble of people talking, everyone filed out of the pews, gathered their warm wraps, coats and hats and scattered out the door facing the wind, snow and cold.
Snug and warm back at the Browley house, the men sat by the fire chatting while the women worked eagerly in the kitchen to make preparations for Christmas dinner the next afternoon.
The parlor was illuminated with a dozen candles Mrs. Browley had purchased at the mercantile. The tall but thin blue spruce pine tree stood strong in front of the window decorated with strung popcorn and pinecones, some dyed with the raspberry and blackberry juices they’d saved for just the occasion.
Chris gazed at the tree that he’d help cut down. He recalled the day it was announced they were going to pick it out.
“It’s time to go cut down one more tree.” Mr. Browley announced the week before Christmas.
Chris cringed as he thought about the dozens of trees he’d just spent day after day hacking, sawing and loading into the wagon. “I thought you said we had enough wood for the winter.” he said trying not to sound too whiny.
Priscilla giggled. “He means our Christmas tree.”
“We get all bundled up and head out into the woods as a family every year to pick out the perfect tree.” Mrs. Browley added. “We’d like you to join us this year Chris.”
It always amazed Chris how effortless it was for this family to whole heartedly accept him as a true member of the family. The feelings associated with their words never ceased within him, either.
Chris continued to stare at that tree that he sawed with Mr. Browley until it came crashing down to the ground.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a Christmas tree that wasn't littered with twinkling lights and hundreds, thousands of strands of tinsel. It was plain... simple... beautiful.
"George, could you come in here a moment?" Mrs. Browley asked.
Chris didn't pay any attention when Mr. Browley got up and left the room. He was still lost in thought about that tree. The same one they dragged across the log over the river to the sleigh being held by the Sams. Chris barely could cross that log himself let alone carrying a tree. He almost got wet, that was certain.
"Chris?" Mrs. Browley called from the kitchen. Chris snapped out of his daydream and turned to her.
"We'd like you to stay the night so you don't have to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning alone at the sod. The girls can bunk together just for tonight. What do you say?"
“That sounds good. Thank you.” Chris exclaimed.
When the women finished in the kitchen, they joined the men in the parlor. They snuggled up together by the warm, comfortable fire.
Mr. and Mrs. Browley sat in their rockers, Chris and Hanna sat snuggled, but not too close since her parents were right there and Priscilla and Mason wrapped themselves in quilts on the floor in front of the hearth.
While working her knitting needles, Mrs. Browley began to hum Christmas Carols. It was slow, soft and gentle but when Priscilla began singing the lyrics, the entire room erupted into song.
This sort of activity would have normally sent Chris on a tailspin of embarrassment but as he joined in belting out the song, he felt natural and at home. In the near eight months he’d been in this place, he’d gone from a hardened criminal boy to a diligently working soft hearted man. He felt right and truly complete with that.
He looked over to Hanna, gave her a warm smile and a squeeze from the arm that wrapped around her. She smiled back at him, so beautiful and innocent. She had no idea what was in store for her the next day. Christmas day.
Chris laid in bed that night, eyes still wide. He felt like a kid again anticipating Santa's arrival, only this time, he anticipated giving a gift rather than receiving it. He had it all planned out and worried that he may not be able to pull it off. His mind refused to shut off especially knowing that Hanna was right next door to him. He wanted nothing more than to go fetch her and bring her back to his bed to hold her the whole night through. He knew what her response would be and he knew what Mr. Browley's reaction would be, so it wasn't worth it to even try. He had a lot riding on tomorrow and he'd be foolish to mess it up before hand.
"Merry Christmas, Chris, my darling." came a voice and a gentle stroke to his forehead. Chris startled awake after not realizing he'd fallen asleep. He eagerly looked around the room trying to take a moment to see where he was.
"Grandma?" he called. "I know you were here, I heard and felt you."
&nbs
p; He took another scan around the empty room. Another visit from his grandma? How could this keep happening? He'd never heard from her so much in the future, but had he given himself enough time to listen?
His forehead was still tingling and warm from her touch. Chris smiled. In a situation he'd normally break down into a sea of tears, he felt happy. He realized that the visits from his grandma were a blessing and a way to keep him close to her. She was never going to live on this Earth with Chris again so he would take every voice and every touch from her that he could until he saw her again in Heaven. Heaven, something Chris never thought much about. What if he'd stayed on the path of destruction, would he have made it into Heaven? Can he still, now, after all he'd done?
"Forgive me Father for all that I have done, for all the crimes I committed, for all the people that I've hurt. Forgive me for straying off of your path and rebelling against you when you tried to straighten it for me. I am weak without you Lord. Please bestow your strength upon me to complete the work you've given me and do it with a calm, gentle heart. Your blessings since my travel here have been overwhelming but have shown me you, God. I thank you for those blessings and all you've done for me. In Jesus name. Amen."
Chris fell back onto his pillow as if the prayer took the last bit of his strength. He didn't feel tired though, he felt free. He felt as though a boulder had been removed from his shoulders and he was, once again, able to move on his own. The movements, however, were different. They were honest and full of the glory of God.