The Christmas Olympics

Opening Ceremonies

As we sat down for dinner that night, I casually brought up these so-called Christmas Olympics with my family. If they were the type to run a 5K on Thanksgiving, I was curious if they'd be participating.

"Oh no," my mom said. "That's for the much younger folks. We do like to watch though."

"Are you thinking of competing?" Miles asked.

I shrugged noncommittally. Of course I would be competing, but I didn't want my family to get the wrong impression; if I was excited about the games, they might think I was excited about being back in Maple Springs, which might lead them to believe I would stay here longer than previously scheduled. Besides, they wouldn't understand my need to compete solely for the purpose of hamulating Arden and finally putting her in her place. It was about eighteen years overdue.

"Are you?" I asked my brother.

"I was thinking about it. I've done it every year so far. It's pretty fun."

"What kind of games do they play? Are they Olympic level games like bob sledding figure skating?"

Miles laughed. "No, more like snowball throwing contests and sledding."

I hummed into my soup.

"You should play," Miles insisted. "That is, if you're planning on staying until Christmas Eve." I felt the eyes of the entire table on me.

I shrugged again. "It sounds like it could be fun. I don't really know where I'll be in the next few weeks though."

"Can't you spend Christmas with us this year?" my mom asked. "You haven't spent a Christmas at home in years. You're here. Why not stay through the holidays?"

I looked into my mother's eyes and a small part of my heart broke: I really hadn't been the best daughter and the expression on my mom's face told me that. I also saw from the corner of my eye Miles looking at me expectantly. Even though I was five years older than him and his sister, Miles had always gravitated toward me. He was the annoying little brother most of the time, but I knew he missed me too. Miles was a big softy: he loved our family fiercely.

So I sighed and promised I would stay through Christmas. My mom hopped up immediately and crushed me in a hug. Miles, I'm sure, wanted nothing more than to do the same, but he kept his seat.

"Then that settles it: you should compete too."

"Fine," I agreed, like it was some big inconvenience. "Where do we sign up?"

"Tonight at the opening ceremonies."

"Excuse me, the what?"

"The opening ceremonies. There's a little parade and everything."

"You've got to be kidding me. That is the most small town thing I've ever heard."

"Maple Springs is a lot more fun now. If you hang around a bit, you'll see."

* * *

I felt like I was fifteen again: walking down Main Street behind my parents, my brother at my shoulder. The road on Main Street had been closed, with large orange detour signs sitting in the middle of the road. We parked as close as we could to our destination but were forced to walk the rest of the way.

Miles happily chatted my ear off the entire walk, updating me on all the new and cool things in Maple Springs.

When we arrived at our destination, a crowd of people huddled around a shoddily built stage that held a podium painted with the Olympic rings strung with Christmas lights. A microphone sat atop and a banner was strung that read 5th Annual Maple Springs Christmas Olympics. Behind the stage, a huge Christmas tree that would have rivaled the Rockefeller tree for small towns bristled with pride and tons of lights. I found myself mildly impressed with the decoration capabilities of Maple Springs; this small town had really seemed to step up its game.