Word Diet - short stories with less calories

Ghost of a Chance

For Pete, Christmas is the season of yesterday.

Dicken's ghosts may have visited Scrooge in one night, but for Pete, their visits occurred throughout his life, and in a very different order.

When Pete was young, his companion was the Ghost of Christmas yet to come - the future. How often did he waste time dwelling on tomorrow, on what he wanted to do, always ignoring the gifts around him?

Then, after they had their daughter, the Ghost of Christmas Present took charge: the band leader of a hurried, messy, joyful season, and Pete fell right in step with his music. Pete's happiness was tied to his ability to make the holiday special for his family. When everything came together, he truly experienced joy.

And now, as an old man, he walked hand in hand with the Ghost of Christmas Past, and not just during the holiday, but throughout the year: reliving had become more important than living.

Pete slowly shuffled home from Mass on a cold and clear Christmas morning, a perfect day for footballs and new bicycles.

He started the coffee pot, turned on his Christmas tree lights, and glanced down at three poorly wrapped Christmas presents underneath his tree. He had loyally maintained his family's Christmas traditions, but over time his efforts, once begat of love, had slowly eroded into mere ritualism.

It was as if he was trying to drag the past forward in time. 

He walked into the kitchen and pressed "play" on the radio/cassette player on the counter. The tape began to turn and Kelly Clarkson started singing "My Favorite Things." It was his wife's favorite holiday song but he could never understand what it had to do with Christmas.

He looked at her photo, smiled, and wished her a Merry Christmas.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat in his recliner. His daughter's family was probably just getting up, the kids running downstairs to ransack presents.

It would be a couple of hours before she texted him.

A gentle knock at the door broke the spell of the music.

Pete answered it, coffee cup in hand, and found the young girl who lived next door standing on his porch. Her family had moved into the neighborhood this past year.

"Merry Christmas... my parents want to know if you wanna join us for breakfast?" Then, timidly, but sweetly, she smiled.

Caught off guard, Pete simply stared as a thousand thoughts and feelings rushed through his head and heart. Then he was struck by the random thought that the past's reflection didn't have to blind him to today's possibilities.

Pete suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to join the neighbors for breakfast.

"Why... yes, I would like that."

He smiled and offered her his free hand, she reached up and gently grasped it and then they walked to her home.

The Ghost of Christmas Past watched them walk away, smiled, and slowly closed the front door.