Chapter 25

Christmas Eve

I practiced my moves—glide, glide, glide—on the school-house stage.

Mom slipped behind the closed curtains for a second. “Grace and Johnny, break a leg,” she whispered. In theater jargon, that meant good luck.

Johnny and I stood with the students and teachers behind the curtains as the audience gathered in the other part of the cafeteria. Johnny played his part and brought laughter from the adults. Mrs. Howard and Miss Eversole opened the curtains.

The program began with us lifting our voices to “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.” Like a gentle breeze, I wafted across the stage, angel-like, in my fancy white dress, fluttering my arms and tilting my head. I looked out at the audience. Men stood along the wall, and women and young children sat in chairs. When Grandma looked at me, her hands flew up to her mouth, and she dabbed her eyes with her hanky. Mom swiped tears, too, but her smile was wide.

Near the end of the program, I glided over near the lambs to be near Johnny. Our performance must have pleased the audience, because the cast got a standing ovation.

After the play, Johnny and I walked with Mom and Grandma to the tables set up with food. I munched on chocolate cake, and Johnny ate a candy cane. As I stuffed the last bite of cake into my pie hole, Santa walked through the door carrying a knapsack filled with presents. Johnny pulled the candy cane out of his mouth and squealed with joy.

Santa handed everyone a gift. I got two. One was a box wrapped in red paper with my name written on it. I tore open the ends, and out slid a box holding a brush, comb and mirror set, all with pearl handles. I had seen a set like it at Wilson’s Grocery and told Mom I hoped Santa would bring it to me for Christmas. I loved it. The other gift, wrapped in green, had Spot’s name on it. I looked over at what was left of Johnny’s blue package. He held a train in his hands and pieces of a track. He bellowed like a train on the Chesapeake & Ohio Railway that ran through Ashland.

I glanced toward the door when a soldier entered. Daddy! I jumped out of my chair and sprinted around groups of people. My heart thumped against my chest as I made the wild dash. I lunged at Daddy as he turned around. That’s when I realized the soldier wasn’t Daddy.

Mom and Grandma rushed over. “I thought the soldier was…” I explained.

“I know,” Grandma said as she pulled me close for a hug. “It’s time to go home.” She and Mom exchanged a look that said they were disappointed too.

We piled into the Hudson. Fat snowflakes the size of nickels showered us. The Hudson slipped and slid on the snowy road all the way back to Grandma’s house.

As we climbed the steps, covered in a three-inch blanket of the white stuff, Spot ran up to me for a sweet hug. Johnny walked through the door and said, “Gracie, let’s put my track together and watch the train chug around.”

Then it hit me like a punch. “Mom, I left my brush set at school. And Spot’s gift. We have to go get them.”

“Oh, my Gracie Girl,” Mom answered, “I can’t drive in this snowstorm tonight. We’ll pick them up tomorrow.”

“But the school won’t be open tomorrow,” I explained.

“We’ll try to get it tomorrow,” Mom said, “if the storm lets up.”

The sound of Mom’s voice told me there was no use to argue. Besides, Mom looked tired. I knew she was as disappointed as I was that the soldier wasn’t Daddy.

I busied myself helping Johnny put the train track together when a knock pounded on the door. A voice called out, “Ho! Ho! Ho!” Johnny jerked open the door, and a hand reached through the opening with my Christmas gift and Spot’s. Johnny looked up and squealed, “Daddy!”

I jumped up, and sure enough, there stood Daddy on a crutch, holding the missing presents.

Daddy took turns hugging Mom and Grandma and Johnny and me. Sometimes he hugged us one at a time, sometimes all at once.

“I tried to make it to the school in time for your play,” he said as he looked at Johnny and me. “Travel on the train was slow, what with the snowstorm and a couple of fallen trees on the railroad tracks. I got to the school before Mrs. Howard locked the door. She handed me your Christmas present, Gracie Girl. And one for Spot.”

After we hugged, kissed, cried and hugged some more, Daddy tugged his duffle bag inside and handed us a whole bunch of letters. He had been in several battles and couldn’t get them mailed. He and another soldier were injured and barely escaped the German Nazis. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months hiding from the enemy and getting well enough to walk. When they finally found Allied troops, Daddy was sent to a hospital and then home. He had lots of time to think, and he said he thought about us at the same time we thought about him.

“My leg is hurt,” Daddy said. “The doctor told me it would take some time to heal, but I’m on the mend already.” He reached back into his duffle bag and pulled out presents. Johnny’s face lit up when he saw a Chutes and Ladders game and a toy jeep.

“Close your eyes, Gracie Girl,” Daddy said, “and hold out your hands.”

When I opened my eyes, I held a Raggedy Ann doll with red hair and red-and-white striped legs. I hugged Miss Raggedy Ann and squeezed her tight to let her know that she was special. Then I noticed a gold chain with a heart pendant hanging around her neck. I unlatched the chain and put it on.

“That necklace looked like my Gracie Girl,” Daddy said.

“I love it,” I cried out as I ran to my bedroom to look at it in the mirror.

When I walked back into the parlor, Daddy said, “Here is a tin of dog biscuits for someone special.” I reached for Spot’s present.

Grandma got a shawl in her favorite color, purple.

Daddy saved the last gift for Mom. He handed her a tiny box.

Mom lifted the lid and whispered, “It’s beautiful.” She stuck out her arm. Daddy reached for the silver bracelet and wrapped it around Mom’s wrist.

As I held my Raggedy Ann, I realized something. I eased over to Grandma’s window and slipped the “sons in service” flag off the hook and handed it to Grandma. Grandma wrapped the flag in tissue paper and placed it in a drawer.

I walked over to Mom and whispered in her ear, “We don’t have a present for Daddy.”

“Sure we do,” Mom answered. She rushed into her bedroom and brought out a gift wrapped in red and green paper with a silver bow on top.

Daddy unwrapped the gift—a pocketknife. He said it was perfect because he wanted to learn to carve wood while his leg healed.

We talked late into the night. I grabbed Spot’s tin of dog biscuits and his wrapped present and walked out to his doghouse. Spot gobbled two biscuits, and I promised I’d give him two more each day. I unwrapped the green package. Inside was a new collar. I unlatched the old collar and wrapped the new one around Spot’s neck.

“Looking good, boy.” I told him. “We’re going to stay with Grandma for a while, until Daddy’s leg heals, maybe longer.”

Spot wagged his tail. In dog talk, that meant he was happy with the plan.

“We may go back to Hazard to live, but we may not. Either way, you and I will be together.” Spot’s tail wagged harder. I kissed that clever mutt goodnight and hurried back inside.

I was chilled from standing in the cold with Spot, but listening to Daddy’s laugh warmed me more than the fireplace. Daddy stood and used his crutch to walk over to the wireless. He turned the knob. The station played Christmas music. As Benny Goodman’s version of “Silent Night” began, Daddy walked back over to Mom and offered his hand. Daddy and Mom waltzed around the parlor, with Mom under one of Daddy’s arms and a crutch under the other. As they danced, Mom laughed one of those laughs that made me want to laugh too.

“Jingle Bells” played next. Daddy grabbed Johnny and me. “My girl and guy have grown since we last danced,” Daddy said as the three of us stomped around the room, Johnny hugging Daddy’s good leg, me hugging his waist.

When the band struck up “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” Daddy walked over to Grandma. He reached out his hand and said, “Ma’am, may I have this dance?”

“Son, I’ve never danced a step in my life,” Grandma said.

“Go on, Grandma,” I said, “you’ve got to have gumption.”

Grandma laughed and danced clear into the kitchen and back with Daddy.