For Mistletoe.
Beatrice sighed as she watched the children running about and screaming with delight. She sat on a stool in a little hut~like building, her chin resting on her arm laid across the counter. This was how Beatrice spent almost every day. She was in the “happiest place on earth”, but she wasn’t happy.
Beatrice’s parents were both security guards at the Disneyland of Anaheim, California. Her mom worked on the floor, scouring the streets for trouble, and her dad worked in the security booth, watching the security tapes. They both worked seven hours a day, five days a week. Unfortunately for Beatrice, she had to work with them, looking for things to do while cooped up in the security booth with her dad.
Today was no different day. Yet.
***
“What are you doing in there?”
Startled, Beatrice looked up from her book. On the other side of the counter stood a little boy who was maybe a year older; seven or eight. He had brown hair and was looking at her curiously, head tilted to one side.
Beatrice looked back at her dad. He was still watching the cameras and seemed unaware that they had a visitor.
“I have to stay with my dad. He works here,” she replied to the boy. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m spending this week in Disneyland,” the boy said, a grin appearing on his face. “I’m Sam. What’s your name?” he asked her.
Beatrice smiled shyly and set her book on the counter. “I’m Beatrice,” she replied.
Sam smiled. Then he looked thoughtful.
“Don’t you ever get bored sitting in there?” he asked her.
Beatrice sighed. “I’m so bored, every day,” she replied. “I wish I could go on rides too, but my parents don’t like to come here on weekends.”
“Why don’t you come with me?” Sam offered.
“I don’t think my dad would like that,” Beatrice replied, shaking her head.
“It’s Christmas Eve! You can’t just sit there. C’mon,” Sam coaxed. “We’d have a lot of fun. We can go on any ride you want.”
Beatrice thought about what he said. He did seem like a really nice boy, and she liked the way he smiled at her. “Well, I’ve always wanted to go on the teacups,” she said hesitantly.
“Then we will go on the teacups.” Sam smiled and held out his hand. “Please go with me,” he tried once more.
Beatrice looked back at her dad, who was absorbed in his work, once more. She decided, maybe, for one day, she deserved to experience the magic of Disney. She deserved her own Christmas miracle. She took his hand.
And the magic of that day was worth all of the trouble she got in later.
***
