Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter!

Christmas Past

...and awoke in his wheelchair, facing the roaring fire.  His tired eyes scoured the room, searching for Marley, but there was no trace of him to be seen.  He relaxed into his chair, his breathing slowing down as realized there was no more danger.  His facial expression returned to it's sour disposition as he steered towards his bedroom.  "Bah, humbug!"
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He sat upright in bed, adjusting his nightcap.  He lay down and pulled the sheets over his person, snuggling in for a long winter's nap.  He had only been in bed for fifteen minutes when he heard the chime if his grand grandfather clock.  He craned his neck to look over, and his eyes grew wide.  It was exactly ten o'clock.

Expect the first ghost at ten., is what Marley had warned.  As the clock gave out the tenth chime, Potter sat up in bed and looked around.  He waited for something, anything to happen.  But nothing did.  Smiling to himself, he tucked himself in once more and closed his eyes.

All of the sudden, he felt something warm and bright come close.  Unable to ignore such a thing, he squinted his eyes open.  All he could see was a great golden light, piercing through the darkness.  As he sat up in his bed, the light dimmed, and Potter saw a person.

It was a lovely young woman, with long, luxurious locks of gold and the features of an angel.  She wore a flowing gown of white muslin, that floated off her without any wind.  A lovely golden glow radiated off of her, like a goddess of some sort.  Potter found himself unable to tear his gaze away.  "Wh-Who are you?"

She smiled at him and spoke in a voice that sounded almost musical.  "I am the Spirit of Christmas Past.", she whispered to him.  "Marley Jacob sent me to you, to show you the shadows of what once were, memories from long ago, and who you used to be, before money took the place of love your heart."  She extended a pale hand toward him.  "Take my hand, and I will show you your life past."

His wrinkled hand trembled as Potter reached out to take her offered hand.  As his fingers grazed hers,  he was nearly blinded by the blast of great white light, filling his vision.  When the light disappeared, Potter was standing in a courtroom, filled with people dressed in winter clothes from the Victorian era.  He looked around, confused and flabbergasted.  "Where are we?"  The Spirit smiled at him.  "Christmas Eve, 1878."

She pointed to a small family sitting in the front row.  "Look over there."  Potter looked closer and gasped softly.  There was a young boy in the family, with golden curls atop his head, and light dancing in his blue eyes.  "Will wonders never cease?  That's me, when I was a lad!  Why, I couldn't have been more than thirteen at the least!"  He looked around.  "I remember this day...the day the world as I knew it came to an end."

The judge pounded his grovel.  "William Joseph Potter, it has been settled.  You will go to debtor's prison for three years.  Meeting adjourned."  Sarah Potter jumped to her feet as her husband was put in handcuffs.  "No, please!", she begged, desperation in her voice.  "How will we live?  Where will we go?"

"Father!", young Henry cried.  William looked at his son.  "Learn this lesson, Henry!", he called out.  "Save your pennies, make your fortune, and keep it!"  The guards surrounded him and dragged him away.  "Save your pennies, make your fortune, and keep it!"  "I will, Father!", young Henry cried with tears in his eyes.  "I promise!"  Present Potter watched as the guards exited the courtroom to take his father to prison, where his life would end before his sentence did.

Henry and his younger sister, Becky ran to their mother's side.  "What do we do, Mother?", Becky asked, her beautiful blue eyes brimming with tears.  Without William providing for them, they were left with an uncertain future.  Sarah took her daughter's hands in her own.  "Don't worry, Becky.  We'll not starve.  I can get a job at my friend's dress shop as a seamstress, pay off our debts."  "What about us?", young Henry asked.

Sarah tried hard not to cry.  "There is a boot factory upstate that hires young people like you to work."  She turned to Becky.  "And as for you, an old friend of mine, Lady Abigail, who lives in the next town, is looking for a young girl to employ under her household."  Henry couldn't believe his ears.  "You're sending us away?"  "I'm so sorry, Henry,", Sarah said.  "But we've no other choice.  With your father gone, we must learn to provide for ourselves."

She held her children close.  "I promise, I will send for you as soon as possible.  Until then, work hard, write often, and above all, do not allow your hearts to grow bitter."  The family embraced one another, never wanting to let go.  Potter felt a tear spill from his eye, remembering the heartbreak he had felt that day.

The Spirit shook her head.  "Poor, poor little Henry.  Such a sad day.  You and your sister were separated.  Your mother fell ill soon afterwards, but you couldn't afford to go home to see her one last time before she died.  You couldn't even come to her funeral."  Another flash of light filled the room.
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When it cleared, they were no longer in the courtroom.  They were surrounded by young men alike from ages nine to seventeen.  "The Hopkins Boot Factory!", Potter exclaimed.  "My first job!  I was put to work, and I worked good!"  Just then the bell rang.  "'At'll suffice fer now, m'boys!", the boot master said.  "Tomorrow's Christmas Eve! Best ya go spend it wit yer fam'lies!"  He held up a dozen envelopes.  "Time for Christmas bonuses!"

Young Henry, now fifteen, stepped up to collect his pay.  "'Ere ya are, 'Enry, ol' boy!", the master said in his common accent.  "Go on 'n' use it to buy yerself a nice new outfit!"  "No, thank you, sir.", Henry said politely.  "I intend to save my pennies, make my fortune, and keep it."

After all the other boys had left, Henry reached into a drawer and pulled out some paper, a pen and an inkwell.  Sitting down at his usual work post, he began orchestrating a letter, saying the words aloud as he wrote them.  "My dearest sister Rebecca, I have been living and working in this awful place for nearly two years now.  I miss you terribly, and I miss the way things used to be.  Not a day goes by that I don't wish you were with me.  But I hope that we can be together again this Christmas.  Please reply to my request as soon as possible."

"I love you, Becky.  Merry Christmas.  Your loving brother, Henry."  He finished his letter and kissed the paper.  Smiling, he got up to get an envelope and stamp and send it out.  In another flash, he saw his sister, as a young woman, reading his letter, surrounded by laundry that needed to be done.  She was tearing up as she read it, her soft sobs catching the attention of a well-dressed young man around her age.

He came to her side and wiped her tears away.  "Rebecca, what ails you so?"  She wiped her runny nose on her sleeve as she looked over at him with glassy eyes.  "Its just...I miss my brother so much.  All I want to do is go home and spend Christmas with him, but I only have a dollar and eighty-seven to my name.  That's barely enough to buy me dinner for tonight."

The man hugged her close, stroking her long brown hair.  "Dry your tears, my love.  I have faith that you will be reunited with your brother one day."  Becky gave him a weak smile.  "Oh, John."  At the name of the man, Potter's nostrils flared, and his face twisted into a sneer.

"But you were not reunited.", the Spirit said.  "Rebecca married her mistress's son and gave birth to a boy."  "Yes...", Potter reminisced.  "My nephew, Fred.  He survived the birth, my sister died."  "After her passing, you blamed John for everything.", the Spirit reminded him.  "You cut off all ties with him and his family.  You refused to lay eyes on his and Becky's son.  You didn't even attend his funeral.  Every year, Fred invites you to his manor for Christmas to get to know you better, but you refuse.  The only family you have left, and you cast him aside."

Potter growled at her.  "Why do you haunt me like this?  Why show me these miserable moments?  Take me home this instant!"  The Spirit shook her head.  "Our visit to the past is not yet complete.  I have yet to show you the most important moments in your making."  Potter looked at her offered hand.  "Very well.", he snapped.  "Let's get this over with."  He took her hand, and everything went white.