After spending a time with my family, I have come to realize that I had been looking at things differently for quite a while. Yes, I'm sure you are all thinking, "well, duh. It's typical for people to realize stuff like that at Christmas, you Scrooge." And this same topic has been covered by How the Grinch Stole Christmas and various other published works, but I suppose it's something else entirely when you experience the change for yourself.
While I was taking in all the wonder of this change, I wrote a short about one of my characters, experiencing the emotions of Christmas. Enjoy and let me know what you think.
"The Bright Christmas" by Cornelia Thorn
My family isn't exactly what you call normal. Well, to me they aren't. To them, I'm not. They live with their country hill-folk way of life and I live with my ear buds permanently dug into my skull, dreaming of flying overseas to London or France. Somewhere where I can fit in and maybe be included in some conversations instead of being the topic of a disgruntled one.
I glance around the living room, watching my little brother and sister sitting among the four other grandchildren. Me being the oldest and the complete outsider, I sit in the corner. You know, the corner that's the farthest possible point from the sickeningly overdressed Christmas tree...or from anyone for that matter.
To the right of the tree sits my grandmother, the old, devoted Baptist with shaking hands. Standing beside her is my Uncle, the eldest of her three children, dressed in his rodeo cowboy attire and matched by his girlfriend who is currently laughing obnoxiously about a corny joke. Then there is my other uncle, the youngest, dressed in camouflage and socks (since his muddy rubber boots where demanded to be left outside) and he is standing beside his fashionable wife (probably my favorite woman out of this group). Sitting on the floor, playing with the grandchildren is where my father can be found. He speaks above everyone else in the room. Not because he wants to, mind you. It's simply because he can't hear too well since he works with machines all day. Beer belly and all, he likes to laugh and mess with the kids. His backwoods, redneck accent carries through my ear buds, exciting everyone else around him to join in.
I roll my eyes and turn up my music, hoping their obnoxious accent wouldn't penetrate my Frank Sinatra playlist. Jazz can be a powerful weapon, you know. Not many things can overpower a good jazz piece. Now they are all laughing about something. Not that I particularly care. I don't particularly like these people to begin with. Out of all of them, I'm the first one to accomplish the feat of going to a University. Except for one: my grand uncle Cornelius.
He is above all my favorite person in the entire world. He is an archaeologist and has traveled the world his entire life. He's always sending me postcards or trinkets from his latest journey. I wanted to be like him someday. To see the world. To meet lots of people. He was supposed to be flying in from Ireland today. And of course, I stare out of the rain-covered window every few minutes to try and catch a glance of him.
Finally, after an hour or so of this madness, I see the headlights of a truck coming up the gravel drive. The grandchildren get up and run to the windows to see who it is, but I could tell by the flaky red truck that it isn't my grand uncle. It's just his brother, my paw paw. I sigh and return to glaring at my phone, hoping it would suddenly give me news, but knowing in bitter logicality that there is still no signal due to the enormous wooded area we are currently settled in.
In walks paw paw and he is laughing. He's holding presents for the family and a rather thick stack of envelopes.
Once he sits on the couch, the presents are distributed. I get a few wrapped gifts. Mostly money, which is what I had asked for. But the last thing to drop into my lap is a green envelope with my name scrawled upon it in my grand uncle's natural calligraphy. I pulled out my ear buds and looked up at my paw paw.
"What's this?"
"Uncle Cornelius couldn't make it today. Weather was too bad fo' him ta fly. He mailed these fo' us a few weeks ago jus' in case. Reckon he done righ' by it, yea?"
I opened the envelope gently as if it were a priceless relic. Inside was more money and a small note.
Merry Christmas, Angel. I love you and I am proud of you. Keep up the good work, Uncle Cornelius.
P.S. Give it a chance. The world is brighter than you know.
I didn't exactly know what he meant by it. Give what a chance? Looking up, I saw my grandmother opening up her present. It was a photograph of all of us at the beach. The entire family. She smiled and started to tear up. It was something so simple and yet it meant the world to her. I gave the note another read and felt a grin tug the corner of my straight face. He knew I would be like this.
I watch the children open their gifts and everyone is laughing and enjoying themselves. Last to open his gifts is my brother. He opens my gift to him and happiness washes over his face. It was a coffee mug with the Union Jack, just what he wanted. He seeks me out and runs up to me, jumping into my lap. He hugs me and whispers in my ear a Thank You and a Merry Christmas.
I look up to find my family smiling at us. I gave them a chance. I look at them differently, casting out any ill will and initial dislike I had of them. And what I found was surprising. Despite the cold rain batting the outside of the window and the quirks each of them had, together they were happy. They were a family and they wanted me to be a part of that too. Of course, I was already a part, but they wanted me to share in what the happiness. Too come in from the darkness I set myself in. Despite the angry, judging glares I had given them throughout the years and the debates I had prepped against going to church early Sunday morning, they had never stopped caring about me. They never stopped believing in me.
Finally, I hug my brother close and I whisper in his ear, so no one else hears. "Merry Christmas. I love you."
END
Merry Christmas, world.
Your loving Host,
Brandi Stevens
(Cornelia Thorn)
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