Merry Little Christmas

05. Christmas Spirit

December 8th, 1961

Days passed, and December 1st turned into December 8th. The snow on the ground was deep enough to cover a body laying down. But against it all, Andrew still came everyday. Their stomachs ached, but after a couple days, they managed to fight it off. But after the pain had passed by them, it had left them weaker.

A couple miracles came and went, as the family received a couple presents from city folks who walked by, and when the woke up to another unpleasant morning, a prodigious twenty-dollar bill awaited them inside their little cup. Surprisingly, no one had taken it.

Christmas was seventeen days away, and Isabella was running out of time deciding what she would get Mr. Knight as a Christmas gift. Even something small; something small but perfect. Something small could be better than something large. It just had to be perfect. Isabella thought.

Perhaps the twenty dollar bill they had found inside their cups. Perhaps a bow tie; the one he had been in search for secretly, as he went into every store in New York, but still haven't had the ability to find it yet. Or maybe something small like a card, resembling their love and gratitude towards the man. That would be better than all of the presents combined.

The family lie down on the cold sidewalk; the only place there was no snow. Their bodies lay weak but alive. Their faces were as pale as the snow on the ground. The only place that had color, was their noses, which carried a cherry red blob of paint. Andrew hadn't come yet, but they weren't expecting him to come anyways.

Niall inched his freezing fingers up to his mouth, blowing cool air from inside onto his hands. Isabella rubbed her hands together, but her hands were too numb to move. The good came, then they were left weaker.

"Mama it's cold." Niall complained.

"Yes, Niall. It's very cold."

Their teeth chattered, trying their hardest to consume the little warmth they had left. The jackets didn't help the kids anymore; they were torn and worn from age. The blankets weren't as useful as they were. They were frozen, as the snow had froze into the cotton.

As the pain from their stomachs slowly melted away, their bodies ultimately froze. It was war against the snow and against themselves. And it was scary, going farther and farther. Only able to keep a hold of the day and then barely knowing how to live the next day. God only knows what's going to happen next. And for them, hopes weren't very high.

It was hard, but they weren't going to give up just yet. There were still so many experiences to go through and life to get over with that they couldn't possibly just end in the middle of nowhere. There was still hope.

"Can we go to the restaurant?" Niall asked.

"Son, we only have twenty dollars. Twenty dollars can't buy us anything in there." Papa sighed, looking down at little Niall, whose face was shriveled up in a tiny frown.

"Can we go to the store?"

"No. I'm sorry."

"The bakery?"

"No, we can't remember?"

"Oh yeah. What about that big big building with lots of rooms?" Niall pleaded.

"The hotel? We can't go in there either. I'm sorry Niall." Papa replied.

"Then what are we going to use our twenty dollars for?" Isabella asked, confused.

"You'll see." Mama smiled, giving them a tiny bit of hope.

She smiled, then turned the other way pretending nothing had just happened. Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy looked at each other, a little twinkle sparkling in their eyes.