This is my entry in the Holiday Story Contest. Enjoy!
Thanks to techsan for his usual superb job of editing!
CHRISTMAS EVE, PRESENT DAY
Little Harry Bailey was quiet, and sneaky, and patient. He had turned four the previous July and he had a plan. The other kids were in the family room watching a Christmas special. He was too, sorta. He was wedged in between the end of the sofa and the wall. This gave him a good vantage point β he could watch the rest of the kids, he could look at the special and he could see the adults sitting around the dinner table. They were all drinking hot chocolate or eggnog. The ones with the eggnog kept passing around a bottle and they seemed really happy.
Deciding he was ready he crawled backwards, a little at a time. Was anyone watching? A little more, and then he was in the hallway. Getting up to a crouch he quietly, and slowly, went into the living room. Yes, there it was... a tall tree decorated in a fantasy of colors, lights blinking, hung all over with neat things to play with! But that was not his objective! Underneath the tree was a jumble of boxes, packages, big ones small ones β all wrapped in glorious colored papers.
Dropping down to his belly, a snake stalking its prey, he slithered into the room. The only light was from the tree and two candles on the mantle. He could hear the stereo gently playing:
The First Noel, the Angels did say
Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay
He neared his goal:
his
presents under the tree! He started reaching for the first box to look at the tag and he heard a soft sound coming from the other side of the tree, a snuffling, sniffling sort of sound. Curiosity won out over his greed, at least for a minute, and he crawled around the tree. There on the sofa was granny Gin Gin. He stood up and walked over to her. There was a sparkle in her eyes, in later years he would understand this was the Christmas lights reflecting on unshed tears.
Seeing Little Harry when he stood up she put out her arms and he ran into them. "Harry, what are you doing in here; no, never mind I think I know!"
"Gin Gin", he asked, "are you crying?"
Taking a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbing at her eyes, she answered, "No, honey, I just have a few magic raindrops in my eyes."
Standing on his tiptoes, his eyes suddenly large, he stared into her damp eyes.
Laughing a little she kidded her grandson, "You know what magic raindrops are, don't you?"
As he shook his head no she continued, "Every year at Christmas time Santa Claus sends one of his elves around with a bottle of magic raindrops and they put a few drops in every grandmother's eyes. Then when she looks at all of her grandchildren, she can tell if they have been good or not! Only the good ones get presents."
Looking at him a little sternly, she asked "Harry, have you been a good boy this year?"
Looking a little worried, he first nodded yes, then, after a bit, shook his head no.
Giving him a huge hug as only grandmothers can, she pulled him down under the tree. "I know you've been good because look at all these presents for you! Go ahead and see what you can find."
Leaving him to his task, she sat back on the sofa, dabbing her eyes again. Her eyes were on Little Harry but her thoughts drifted back to earlier, her sadness triggered by the song she played over and over every Christmas:
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King Of Israel
CHRISTMAS SEASON, MANY YEARS EARLIER
Ginny had just got out of the shower and was looking in the mirror, seeing what she always saw: a short pixie-like girl with dirty blond hair, always appearing as it did now, a couple inches long, scraggly and sticking up everywhere. She was somewhat angular from the years of competitive running, but she saw enough curves to draw a slight smile.
She finished drying herself, took the silly plastic bag from around her foot and ankle and got dressed, grabbed her hairbrush and stared angrily at the mirror. This was a daily battle she fought, her against her hair. Going into attack mode she furiously brushed. Surrendering, she threw the brush in a drawer and vigorously ran her fingers through the mess on top of her head.
Snorting, she thought "I might as well shave it off; it could only look better! At least this is better than when it was long." Since she rarely wore makeup, she gave up, put a dab of the latest cologne that promised to make her "alluring" and left the guest bedroom using her crutches. She had sprained her ankle somewhat severely, slipping while running in the snow, and was sleeping in the guest bedroom downstairs so she wouldn't have to negotiate the stairs. It was working out okay, especially since it had its own bathroom.
Virginia Davis had graduated from high school the previous spring, and had turned eighteen just before Thanksgiving. She was currently going to the local community college but had no idea what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. As a result she was taking General Ed classes, trying to get some of the required courses out of the way while she waited for an inspiration for her future.
Ginny ... she never allowed anyone to call her Virginia ... was a lot of things. She was smart, cute, funny, short, a runner, a daughter, a sister, a student, a pretty good cook, and... well, you get the idea. If you could get inside Ginny's head and see what
she
thought she was, it wouldn't be any of those things. When she really thought about it, when she looked in a mirror, when she woke up late at night, when she gossiped with her friends, she always came back to one thing:
she was a virgin!
This wasn't any particular plan or belief of hers, nor a concerted effort to stay that way, that's just how it had worked out. She had had the regular supply of boyfriends, though none for more that a few months. Few of her friends had made it to the senior prom as a virgin - none of them past the prom! Of course they talked about it all the time, sometimes giggling, sometimes whispering, once in a while blushing.
But not Ginny. She had no stories to titillate her friends with. She sometimes felt left out, and in general had very mixed feelings. Some days she was embarrassed, other days proud. Some nights she felt a longing, a stirring in her loins that confused her. She wasn't in a rush to lose it but sometimes it seemed like a burden to bear. Her life was great but it seemed to lack definition to her; some days everything seemed a little fuzzy!