“ANNA’S GUESTS!”
Rudi, Gretchen, Frieda and Fritz stared at their mother. Anna tipped her face up and peered at her father through her moons of glasses.
“Oh, Papa, you asked them!” she cried.
“Yes, I asked them,” Papa smiled.
How excited she was! He had never seen her like this, her cheeks so pink, her eyes shining. One of her braids was undone and her glasses were crooked. But her dimples! Had she always had dimples like that?
She’s beautiful, her father thought.
“We must wait,” he said, “but they’ll be here. Franz is bringing her in his car.” There was something in Papa’s voice.
Isobel’s right, Anna thought. They are in love. Her smile grew even wider.
“Let me go, Papa,” she said suddenly, “I want to look at my new things while we’re waiting.”
The others were still exclaiming over the fact that Anna had guests coming, but she could not stand being the centre of attention another moment. She went down on her knees beside the tree and picked up Now We Are Six. She opened it and held it close to her nose. Good. It smelled all right. The smell of a book was important when you had to hold it so close.
And she had a game, too, and the mittens. She pulled on the mittens and snuggled her hands up against her cheeks.
The doorbell rang.
“There they are, Anna,” Papa said. “You go and let them in.”
She scrambled up from the floor and, snatching off her mittens, grabbed at her father.
“You come too,” she entreated. “I can’t by myself.”
Mama, worrying about what there was to eat, looked at her impatiently.
“Don’t be foolish,” she urged, her voice sharpening just a little. “You are keeping them waiting.”
“It’s all right, Klara. They won’t mind a small thing like that,” laughed Papa.
He looked down into his daughter’s panic-stricken face. Gently, very gently, he teased, “I thought you were my independent child, my Anna who goes her own way,” he said. “You don’t need a hand to hold. Not you!”
He was laughing at her. Her own Papa who never laughed at her!
But now Bernard laughed at her every day. Isobel was always laughing at her.
“You are funny, Anna,” Isobel often said.
Even Miss Williams teased.
And Anna did not mind. Not any more.
“Please, please, Papa,” she cried, tugging at his sleeve, even smiling herself, but still wanting him.
“Come on then,” he said and gave her his broad hand.
Holding on, she felt her courage return. She walked proudly. She, Anna, had guests.
Not watching where she stepped, she stumbled over a wrinkle in the rug. She would have fallen if Papa had not kept hold of her.
“There goes Awkward Anna!” Fritz laughed.
She turned to glare but the doorbell rang again.
“He said it for fun only,” Papa told her, tightening his grip on her hand.
Anna’s dimples showed unexpectedly.
“Hurry, Papa,” she begged, as though Fritz did not exist.
Together they opened the door to Miss Williams and the doctor.
“Merry Christmas, Anna.”
“Merry Christmas, Miss Williams!”
“Oh, it’s snowing! Look, Liebling, like stars!”
“Fröhliche Weihnachten, Franz.”
They were inside. The door was shut against the cold and the snow. Anna took her teacher’s heavy coat and staggered to the closet with it.
The others had come into the hall now, too. Greetings flew. Then Mama spoke out over them all.
“All right, Frieda. Now we may eat,” she said.
They started to follow her, everyone laughing at Frieda’s red face.
Questions came at Anna thick and fast.
“Did they like the basket, Anna?” Miss Williams asked.
“Did you surprise them? Did you keep it a secret?” said the doctor.
Before she could begin to answer, the teacher added, “And your tree, Anna! Is it as beautiful as you told us it would be? So lovely you would not even try to draw a picture of it?”
“Ja,” Anna said. “Ja, ja, ja!”
They could not eat now! She must make Mama understand. They must go in and see the tree first. And there was something else, something she had planned to say for a long time but had kept putting off or forgetting.
Only I didn’t really, Anna admitted to herself. I was just afraid.
She was not afraid now. But first she must get Mama to listen.
“Mama, Mama, stop. Wait!” she called out, as her mother went to open the dining-room door.
Klara Solden turned. What now? Her mouth went tight. Then she remembered what she had learned that evening.
“What is it, Anna?” she asked.
“We must go to the tree first for just one moment,” said Anna.
Her mother hesitated.
But Papa nodded. “She is right, Klara,” he said.
Mama let go of the doorknob and came with them. They were standing in front of the tree. It glowed. It was as beautiful as it had been in the very first moment when Papa had let them in to see it. Miss Williams’ eyes were wide with wonder.
“I’ve never seen a tree lit with candles before,” she breathed. “Oh, it is lovely.”
Anna had known she would like it. It was important that she see it before anything else.
But now, now it was time for the other.
“Maybe later would be better,” a voice inside her whispered. “Maybe you should wait until there aren’t so many people.”
Anna had listened to that voice before. Now she shut her mind to it.
“Mama,” she said quickly, while she was still brave, “I have to tell you something.”
“Not another surprise,” Mama said.
She was still concerned about the food, although really she did know she had more than enough. Yet Dr. Schumacher might be a terribly hungry man!
She looked down and caught Anna waiting for her to listen properly. Oh, she must find time for Anna. From now on, she must always try to find time.
“Yes, Anna,” she said, really listening.
“I can speak English,” Anna announced.
She giggled then, because the words had come out not in English but in German. Mama would not know what to think. Anna tried again, this time switching to her new language.
“I can speak English, Mama. Not just a little bit. Really. I do it all the time at school. I even think in English now mostly. I do it … almost as well as you do.”
She knew her English was better than Mama’s, but she loved Mama so much tonight.
“English!” Mama said in amazement, forgetting the food entirely. “But at home you speak German only. Day after day!”
“She certainly speaks English at school,” Miss Williams said. “She’s becoming quite a chatterbox. Isobel is leading her astray.”
“Are you surprised, Mama?” Anna persisted. “Are you happy?”
Klara Solden did not know herself how she felt. Her smile did not waver, but there was sadness, too, on her face, for an instant.
“I have no German child left,” she said.
“They are all your children,” Papa told her, putting his arm around her. “They are Canadian children maybe, but they are all yours, meine Liebe. Yes, Anna, she is surprised, and she is happy too.”
“Mama, listen,” Anna rushed on, paying no attention to Papa for once in her life. “Listen to what I have learned for you.”
She stood up straight, her feet set a little apart, her hands clasped behind her, her head high. Above her, her perfect basket stood on the mantel, holding Rudi’s flower. Taking a deep breath, she began to sing:
“Silent night! Holy night!”
“Ach, ‘Stille Nacht’!” Mama breathed. She was near tears again but only for a moment.
Anna sang on in English:
“All is calm, all is bright;”
Gretchen joined her then, their two voices blending:
“Round yon Virgin mother and child!”
The other three children came in together on the next line:
“Holy infant, so tender and mild;”
Then the adults sang too, Miss Williams very softly in English, Dr. Schumacher, Papa and Mama in the language in which the words were first written:
“Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh,”
“Sleep in heavenly peace.”
Anna led them on into the next verse. You could tell that she was seeing the shepherds, was dazzled by the angels.
She is special, my Anna, Papa thought, watching her joyous face. I was right about her all along.
But Anna did not think of such things. She did not remember being Awkward Anna. She did not tell herself she was Miss Williams’ “challenge.” She did not even hug to her heart that moment when, finally, she had become Mama’s “dearest, dearest child.”
In her heart it was Christmas, and she was busy singing.