Gabriel Moore lived by himself. He hadn’t always. He had recently “graduated” from a group home where he had developed day to day skills to a point where he was allowed and encouraged to move into a small apartment that also provided minimal supervision. He had spent all of his 33 years living with his elderly parents or in the group home surrounded by people. Although he was proud of his independence, he missed everyone. This was his first Christmas on his own and he was lonely.
He was born with some complications to a mother who was in her late 40’s. His development was initially slow and then time seemed to stand still for Gabriel. While the other children talked, walked and learned to ride bicycles Gabriel remained speechless and lacked motor skills. He was soon far behind other children his age. IQ tests confirmed his deficiencies. His parents lacked the knowledge or initiative to do anything to help but to love him and protect him. His body grew but his mind did not. He was happy in his world without challenges. When at the age of 27 his mother passed away two years after his father he was left without anyone. Placed in the group home by the state he quickly adapted to his new surroundings. In a few short years his growth and progress led him to employment doing light assembly in a co-op business. He was able to venture on his own more frequently and showed maturity in some daily decisions. Soon the opportunity came to move into his own apartment and while afraid, he bravely embraced the chance to spread his little wings and fly. He was a regular guy.
On Christmas Eve Gabriel got home from work early as they had released everyone after a half day so they could spend the holiday with their families. Riding the bus down his street he looked at all the Christmas decorations and reminders of what time of year it was. He squinted his eyes and looked at the twinkling lights and smiled. Up the stoop and into his hallway he fumbled around under his sweater for the string that his apartment key was tied to. He heard the television at Mrs. Drake, the building manager’s apartment and he whispered softly “Hello Mrs. Drake, hello Mittens” because he never forgot about her cat. His apartment was simple with bare walls and stark furniture. It didn’t feel much like Christmas.
Deciding to do something about it, Gabriel found a stack of newspapers that he had been saving for the church paper drive and opened up a page to its full width. Carefully with rounded tip scissors he cut the simple outline of a Christmas tree. Using a fat, green crayon he had in a box with the scissors and other important art items he carefully colored the paper tree the best he could adding as much green as he was able to the white and black newsprint. Finding some tape in the magical art box he gently stuck the Christmas tree up on the wall across from the sofa where a TV normally would be. He then meticulously cut out several packages complete with bows which also were decorated with bright colors and affixed to the wall under the tree. And then he placed a yellow paper star up high on the wall as high as he could reach. Gabriel then sat on the couch and smiled looking at his handiwork. It seemed more right.
As he sat there remembering Christmas’s past where he had been able to offer homemade presents to family and friends he became suddenly cognizant of the startling fact that he had nothing to give and no one to give it to. His mind raced and he became anxious desperately trying to figure out what to do. Finally, in a moment of unusual clarity, it came to him. He jumped up and grabbed his coat, hat, scarf and mittens. Opening the front closet he found one of his two red snow boots and without wasting time looking for the other, pulled the left one on and clop-clopped across the floor to the kitchen. There he pulled open a drawer grabbing the lid to his only cooking pot and the wooden spoon Cindy had given him when he moved in, he ran out the door, down the hall and out to the sidewalk. The street was busy on this evening and a light snow was drifting down in light swirls softly sticking to the concrete below. People were walking about but the crowds were thinning out as everyone hurried home to awaiting family and friends. It was Christmas Eve you know.
Melinda Reed was worn out. A partial day of work followed by a frustrating few hours of shopping had left her positively out of the Christmas spirit. She was tired, she was depressed and she was ready for it to be over. Melinda was not in the mood and she turned up her coat collar and trudged ahead down the sidewalk with tunnel vision. She needed some Christmas.
She heard it before she saw him. Someone was singing very loudly and very badly and with very much enthusiasm. And banging on something. Erratically. As she neared she saw him. Standing on the first step with one red boot, all bundled up except for a huge smile and eyes that sparkled. As he sang he beat on the pot lid with a wooden spoon. And sang he did. The same thing over and over again.
“We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas,
We wish you a Merry Chri….stmmmaaaaasssssssssss! And a Happy New Year.”
Then, with a short pause for effect, he began the same short song again. And again. And again. Over and over with equal joy and zeal each time. He thought he knew some more words to the song but was not sure enough to try them and besides, this was more fun and easier. Melinda stood and watched. And then she smiled. Then giggled. Finally, she flat out laughed. Her laughter caused Gabriel much delight and the more she chuckled the louder he sang. This was the Christmas they both needed. When Gabriel stopped for a short break, Melinda walked toward him and lifted her purse from her side. Opening it she took out a $20 and stretched her arm with the money in it out toward Gabriel. He looked at her quizzically and said “This don’t cost nothing. It’s free. It’s my Christmas present to you.” Melinda replied “And this is my gift to you.” Smiling, Gabriel said “It’s not my birthday. It’s Christmas.” Melinda quietly returned the money to her purse and looked into his grinning face.
“My name is Gabriel. Just like the angel in the story about Mary,” he remarked. Softly she said “Yes, very much like an angel. Thank you Gabriel.” And with that she started to turn. With one last burst of exuberance Gabriel shouted “Merry Christmas………and Happy Easter” to which Melinda remarked “Merry Christmas Gabriel” and she walked away smiling broadly and laughing to herself as he began a new chorus of his song that became more beautiful and in tune as it faded into the night.
Joyeux Noël
Natale allegro
Feliz Navidad
圣诞快乐
Καλά Χριστούγεννα
Merry Christmas
He was born with some complications to a mother who was in her late 40’s. His development was initially slow and then time seemed to stand still for Gabriel. While the other children talked, walked and learned to ride bicycles Gabriel remained speechless and lacked motor skills. He was soon far behind other children his age. IQ tests confirmed his deficiencies. His parents lacked the knowledge or initiative to do anything to help but to love him and protect him. His body grew but his mind did not. He was happy in his world without challenges. When at the age of 27 his mother passed away two years after his father he was left without anyone. Placed in the group home by the state he quickly adapted to his new surroundings. In a few short years his growth and progress led him to employment doing light assembly in a co-op business. He was able to venture on his own more frequently and showed maturity in some daily decisions. Soon the opportunity came to move into his own apartment and while afraid, he bravely embraced the chance to spread his little wings and fly. He was a regular guy.
On Christmas Eve Gabriel got home from work early as they had released everyone after a half day so they could spend the holiday with their families. Riding the bus down his street he looked at all the Christmas decorations and reminders of what time of year it was. He squinted his eyes and looked at the twinkling lights and smiled. Up the stoop and into his hallway he fumbled around under his sweater for the string that his apartment key was tied to. He heard the television at Mrs. Drake, the building manager’s apartment and he whispered softly “Hello Mrs. Drake, hello Mittens” because he never forgot about her cat. His apartment was simple with bare walls and stark furniture. It didn’t feel much like Christmas.
Deciding to do something about it, Gabriel found a stack of newspapers that he had been saving for the church paper drive and opened up a page to its full width. Carefully with rounded tip scissors he cut the simple outline of a Christmas tree. Using a fat, green crayon he had in a box with the scissors and other important art items he carefully colored the paper tree the best he could adding as much green as he was able to the white and black newsprint. Finding some tape in the magical art box he gently stuck the Christmas tree up on the wall across from the sofa where a TV normally would be. He then meticulously cut out several packages complete with bows which also were decorated with bright colors and affixed to the wall under the tree. And then he placed a yellow paper star up high on the wall as high as he could reach. Gabriel then sat on the couch and smiled looking at his handiwork. It seemed more right.
As he sat there remembering Christmas’s past where he had been able to offer homemade presents to family and friends he became suddenly cognizant of the startling fact that he had nothing to give and no one to give it to. His mind raced and he became anxious desperately trying to figure out what to do. Finally, in a moment of unusual clarity, it came to him. He jumped up and grabbed his coat, hat, scarf and mittens. Opening the front closet he found one of his two red snow boots and without wasting time looking for the other, pulled the left one on and clop-clopped across the floor to the kitchen. There he pulled open a drawer grabbing the lid to his only cooking pot and the wooden spoon Cindy had given him when he moved in, he ran out the door, down the hall and out to the sidewalk. The street was busy on this evening and a light snow was drifting down in light swirls softly sticking to the concrete below. People were walking about but the crowds were thinning out as everyone hurried home to awaiting family and friends. It was Christmas Eve you know.
Melinda Reed was worn out. A partial day of work followed by a frustrating few hours of shopping had left her positively out of the Christmas spirit. She was tired, she was depressed and she was ready for it to be over. Melinda was not in the mood and she turned up her coat collar and trudged ahead down the sidewalk with tunnel vision. She needed some Christmas.
She heard it before she saw him. Someone was singing very loudly and very badly and with very much enthusiasm. And banging on something. Erratically. As she neared she saw him. Standing on the first step with one red boot, all bundled up except for a huge smile and eyes that sparkled. As he sang he beat on the pot lid with a wooden spoon. And sang he did. The same thing over and over again.
“We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas,
We wish you a Merry Chri….stmmmaaaaasssssssssss! And a Happy New Year.”
Then, with a short pause for effect, he began the same short song again. And again. And again. Over and over with equal joy and zeal each time. He thought he knew some more words to the song but was not sure enough to try them and besides, this was more fun and easier. Melinda stood and watched. And then she smiled. Then giggled. Finally, she flat out laughed. Her laughter caused Gabriel much delight and the more she chuckled the louder he sang. This was the Christmas they both needed. When Gabriel stopped for a short break, Melinda walked toward him and lifted her purse from her side. Opening it she took out a $20 and stretched her arm with the money in it out toward Gabriel. He looked at her quizzically and said “This don’t cost nothing. It’s free. It’s my Christmas present to you.” Melinda replied “And this is my gift to you.” Smiling, Gabriel said “It’s not my birthday. It’s Christmas.” Melinda quietly returned the money to her purse and looked into his grinning face.
“My name is Gabriel. Just like the angel in the story about Mary,” he remarked. Softly she said “Yes, very much like an angel. Thank you Gabriel.” And with that she started to turn. With one last burst of exuberance Gabriel shouted “Merry Christmas………and Happy Easter” to which Melinda remarked “Merry Christmas Gabriel” and she walked away smiling broadly and laughing to herself as he began a new chorus of his song that became more beautiful and in tune as it faded into the night.
Joyeux Noël
Natale allegro
Feliz Navidad
圣诞快乐
Καλά Χριστούγεννα
Merry Christmas
posted by Kevonia at 6:45 AM
2 comments
