The Peace Carol
by A. Nannie Mouse

PART 2

The boy dropped an ornament. It smashed on the floor. A simple accident, but it infuriated his father.

"Damn it. Why can't you be careful? I've never seen such a clumsy child in my life. Go to your room!" Daddy screamed. The yelling only made the boy more clumsy and he dropped another ornament. Daddy came bounding off the stool and took a swing at the frightened child. Mamma put herself between her son and her husband. The blow knocked her into a box of ornaments. When she stood up, she was covered with blood from dozens of small cuts. Grandma swept the now terrified little boy into the kitchen while Grandpa yelled at Daddy.

"Sh . . . " Murdock stopped himself, he couldn't use that language in front of his Grandpa. "Did that happen often?" He asked, stunned by the change in his father.

"More than I liked."

"Was Mamma all right?"

"Yes. And he never hit either of you again. The blood looked much worse than it was and it frightened some sense into him."

Now they were in the kitchen, where Grandma was comforting the little boy.

"It's all my fault, Gamma! I was bad! Now Mamma is hurt!" blubbered the little guy.

"No, Baby! Mamma is fine. She just cut herself a little." The boy just looked at her. He wasn't that little. He knew that what had just happened was serious.

"Back in those days we tried to minimize things like this." Said Murdock's companion. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. You've got to understand, H. M., you weren't the first in the family to come back from war . . . wounded. Archer came back from Europe angry at everything. I tried to help, but he wouldn't let me. Your mother was the only one he would talk to. When he lost her, well, that was the beginning of the end."

Now, they were under the tree on Christmas morning. Mamma was wearing a bunch of small bandages but was otherwise beautiful. Daddy was holding out a large box. The boy tore into it and pulled out a beautiful toy airplane.

"Vroooom!" he cried and flew it around the room.

"Is this to remind me that Christmas has always been a mess?" asked Murdock, bitterly. "Give the kid a toy and he'll forget?"

"Of course not! You loved your parents and they loved you, even when they didn't know how to tell you. That wasn't a bribe to make you forget the abuse. That was an attempt to make you happy. He was wrong when he hit you, boy, but he did love you."

"What am I supposed be learning here, besides the obvious lesson in genetics?"

"That life has always been difficult, but there are always moments that make it worthwhile."

The little boy handed his father a poorly wrapped package with extreme pride. "I made it all by myself!" Murdock remembered that gift. It was a bark box held together with whip stitching. Grandpa had cut it out and made the holes and Mamma had shown him how to whip stitch. Other than that, he had made it all by himself. It didn't look like it would hold together.

Daddy looked with great pride at his prize. "This is the most wonderful present I have ever been given!" He even seemed to mean it. The little boy was ecstatic.

The rest of the day was a real, old-fashioned, Christmas. Cookies, carols, and a huge dinner. Grandpa told the story of the first Christmas with such detail that the boy was sure Grandpa had been there, which amused his father no end. The young H. M. spent the evening at the center of the universe. The family was happy. But, Murdock couldn't let go of the incident at the tree trimming. He wanted Christmas to be what he remembered, and he didn't want to remember it like this.

"All aboard!" Grandpa announced and suddenly they were years in the future. He was living with his grandparents. Daddy had left him there when he went looking for work. He had never returned. But H. M. was happy. Grandpa was retired and there was never much money, but there was always enough to eat, and clothes for school. H. M. had a paper route and would do yard work for extra cash. He would run errands for elderly neighbors. He had entered his teens as a very resourceful young man. By the time he was fifteen he had a goal. He was going to learn to fly.

That year he had spent months washing planes and running errands at the airport to make points with the local instructor. He refused direct payment and insisted that every thing be put on account for his lessons. He turned sixteen right before Christmas and couldn't wait for spring and the opportunity to start his lessons. He wanted to fly more than anything.

Then Grandma got sick in early December. Grandpa was beside himself. The bills got out of control and there was little extra for Christmas. H. M. even tried to cash in his account with the instructor for the money for gifts. He had to cheer up his Grandpa somehow. Jerry, the instructor, couldn't help him. He just didn't have the cash.

On his way home, he stopped at the church and prayed for Grandma. His grandparents had raised him in the church and it was just natural that he would stop here. He looked at the Creche and decided that it could be worse, he could be sleeping in hay. He itched just thinking of the idea. It had to be hard on Mary to give birth in a stall, although he was sure that Joseph would have helped as much as he could. Like Grandpa with Grandma. He was awed by the thought of the baby King. Salvation wrapped in swaddling clothes. The First Christmas Gift. Cool.

As he stood there, someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Dave, one of the pilots that he'd run errands for.

"Hey kid, can you help me out this week? I have a lot of holiday cargo to run and one of my guys is out with the measles, of all things. Jerry said you were looking for work during your Christmas holiday. It'll take some heavy lifting but you're getting so tall, I don't think it will bother you."

"I'll have to talk to Grandpa, but I'm sure I can do it." He answered calmly, trying not to whoop with joy.

"He didn't really need me. I think Jerry talked him into it." Murdock said fondly. "I worked for Dave every vacation until I went to Nam." "I remember."

"Dave sure saved that Christmas. Even if I did have to learn to cook the ham. I was so glad I could help, I think I would have done anything."

"Dave saved Christmas? I don't remember CHRISTMAS being in danger. It was your expectations that were on the line, my friend." Grandpa laughed. "But don't think that we weren't proud of you, my boy. You worked hard and Grandma wouldn't have recovered as fast if you hadn't. And Dave helped a great deal."

"And the moral of this experience?"

"You tell me."

"Always bake ham for twenty minutes per pound?"

"You're never alone, my boy. No matter what it looks like, there is always someone there to help. Even when it itches."

H. M. was home on leave, right before starting his second tour of duty in Nam. He was already a 'hero'. He was very uncomfortable with the word.

As far as he was concerned, the heroes were the guys he was pulling out of the mud.

The first thing he noticed when he got home was how sick Grandma looked. He knew she was failing. She had been for several years, but she was much sicker this time. He had planned to run wild. A different girl every night. Drink until he puked. He had a long list. He saw some of his old friends, but somehow, spending time with Grandma seemed more important. She had been his mother since he was five. He decorated the tree, helped bake the cookies, sat with her in the living room and just listened to her stories about the family and Christmases past. He knew that when he left, he would never see her again. The time was sweet. Grandma loved him. When the day came for him to leave, he knew that she would be spending the next Christmas with the Lord.

"The time was so short." Murdock whispered when it was time to leave.

"Exactly." Grandpa said. He kissed his grandson on his forehead, like he used to when he was a child.

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