Barbara Hannay - Little Christmas Miracles

Elizabeth assured him they did. It was in the living room.

“But I didn’t see it today.”

“You may have missed the living room, dear. It’s the room by the front door. Some people call it a parlor.”

“I don’t think we went in that room, Toby,” Molly said softly.

“You would remember it if you saw it, Toby,” Elizabeth continued. “It’s silver with gold balls on it. It’s quite striking.”

“No, Grandma, Christmas trees are green, not silver.”

“Toby, some trees aren’t real,” Molly hurriedly explained. “They’re made out of other things.”

Toby looked puzzled. “Why?”

Molly looked at Richard, a clear plea for assistance.

“Real trees are messy, Toby. Plus, if you have an artificial tree, you can reuse it every year.”

“Is that good, Molly?” Toby asked.

“For some people it is.”

“I like green trees,” Toby asserted. Then tears glistened in his eyes as he continued, “Me and Mommy and Daddy decorated our tree with all our favorite ornaments.”

Molly leaned over and whispered something in Toby’s ear and the little boy tried to wipe away the tears.

“Mrs. Anderson,” Molly asked, “would there be a room where Toby could have a green tree this year? As a sort of memorial to his parents?”

Richard spoke up. “My mother can’t—”

“Yes, I think we could do that,” Elizabeth said at the same time.

“Mother, I don’t think you can take on that task. It will be too much for you.”

“It wouldn’t be, Richard, if you’d help.”

The other two were sitting quietly, watching the conversation between him and his mother. Richard almost groaned aloud. He had too much to do as it was. But he could tell his mother wanted to make the effort for her grandson.

“All right, Mother. In what room would you like to put the green tree?”

“I think my sitting room would do. Then we could enjoy it all day long.”

“Of course you could, if you want an eight-year-old running in and out.”

Molly spoke up. “Toby and I came across a garden room with a tiled floor and some pretty durable furniture in it. Wouldn’t that be a good room for a real tree, so the pine needles won’t stick in the carpet?” She looked at Richard.

“We don’t use that room often in the winter. Do you think that would be a good idea, Richard?” Elizabeth asked her son.

“I’m sure it would be fine, Mom. Albert can take Molly and Toby out to find a tree tomorrow, if they want.”

Toby frowned. “But the daddy always comes to carry the tree and tie it on the roof of the car.”

Richard smiled. “We don’t have a daddy here, Toby. I promise Albert can carry the tree for you. He’s very strong.”

“No, I think Toby is right,” Elizabeth spoke with more authority than Richard had heard from her since he was a small boy himself.

“Right about what, Mom?” he asked.

“I think we should go as a family. That’s what we did when you were a little boy. When you get home tomorrow evening, we’ll go find a tree.” She nodded, as if to punctuate her statement.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get home, Mom. I missed two days of work.”

“Richard, I don’t think you should miss buying the tree. This will be Toby’s first Christmas with us. It’s important.”

Richard sighed, thinking of all the work he had piled up for him when he got to the office in the morning. And now he’d have to get home at a decent hour tomorrow night to go buy a blasted Christmas tree!

“And when will the presents get here?” Toby asked.

“Why, I suppose Santa will bring them Christmas Day,” Elizabeth assured him with a smile.

“No, I mean the presents that were under our tree at home.” Toby turned to Molly. “They will come, won’t they?”

“I don’t know, honey. I’m sure they’ll get here sometime, but it might not be before Christmas.”

“But they have to! I think Mommy wrapped up my puppy!”

ALL three adults stared at the little boy.

“What?” Molly asked, not sure she’d heard correctly.

“Oh, no!” Elizabeth said, covering her mouth with her hand.

Richard drew a deep breath. “Toby, I don’t think that would’ve been possible. Puppies can’t live in a closedup box.”

Once again tears formed in Toby’s eyes. “But my mommy promised me a puppy for Christmas!”

Molly automatically put her arm around Toby. “Richard isn’t saying your mommy wasn’t getting you a puppy. He’s just saying it wasn’t wrapped up. She’d probably made arrangements for picking up the puppy on Christmas Eve.”

“So I’ll still get my puppy?”

Molly looked at Richard. She figured he should be the one to answer that question. She couldn’t imagine a dog in their elegant home.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so. We don’t know where she’d purchased a dog.”

Toby slumped back in his chair, devastation on his face.

Molly squeezed his shoulder and said softly, “Finish your dinner like a big boy, Toby.”

He sat up straighter and looked at Molly for approval. She managed a smile for him, hoping he wouldn’t realize how much she sympathized with him. It would only make him weaker.

“I’m sure Santa will bring you some wonderful presents, Toby,” Elizabeth assured him.

Toby managed a smile for his grandmother.

Elizabeth immediately rang the bell. When Louisa entered, she said, “We’re ready for dessert now, Louisa, please.”

Richard looked at his mother in surprise. “We are?”

“Yes, I believe Toby has finished his meal and dessert will make him feel better.” Again she smiled at Toby, ignoring Richard’s half-filled plate.

With a sigh and a regretful look as Louisa collected his plate, Richard said, “Dessert must be good tonight, Toby. We don’t always get any dessert.”

“Me, neither. But I like dessert,” Toby added, again managing a smile for his grandmother.

Molly hid her smile, afraid Richard would guess she was laughing inside about his consternation as his plate was taken from him. But he was being a good sport about it, which earned him marks in her book, in spite of his lack of warmth toward her.

Dessert was chocolate cake with chocolate ice cream—Toby’s favorite. Molly ate some of it, but she didn’t clean her plate like the two males did.

Elizabeth didn’t touch hers, seeming more engrossed in Toby’s enjoyment of the dessert.

After dinner was over, Molly suggested Toby tell his relatives good-night and she’d take him up to bed. Since saying good-night at home had included kisses and hugs for his parents, Toby hugged his grandmother, much to her delight, and kissed her cheek. Then he moved on to Richard and did the same.

To Molly’s relief, both of them appeared grateful for Toby’s nightly ritual. Molly took the boy’s hand and led him up the stairs to his room.

“You did really well tonight, Toby,” Molly told him as he was preparing for his bath. She’d already run the bathwater as soon as they’d reached his room.

He raised his head to stare at her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you used good table manners, and you behaved very well when you realized you might not get a dog for Christmas.”

“Yeah. I want a puppy so much. But I guess a dog wouldn’t do so well in this big house. He might get lost.”

“Yes, he might. After you have a bath, I’ll read you a story,” Molly said, trying to recall the books she’d packed. “I don’t know which books I packed. Is there one you want me to read?”

“Any of the Berenstain Bear books. They’re a lot of fun. And I can read them myself.”

“Ah. Good. Then I’ll let you read one to me tonight. And I might buy a copy of Charlotte’s Web . Have you ever read that book?”