The Spirit of Christmas

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HolidayDigest

By Elizabeth Nutt
By Elizabeth Nutt

Lucy’s mother quickly closed the windows in the kitchen. She was concerned that every living being on their sleepy South Laguna cul-de-sac could hear her daughter’s greedy wails.

“Mom, I want my Barbie life in the dream house amaze chase glam camper now.”

“Lucy, we’ve talked about this. Santa’s watching you, and if you’re good, you’ll wait, like every other child around the world, for surprises on Christmas Day,” said her mother, exasperated.

“I’m not waiting for stupid Santa. I want the glam camper now!” Shouted the 7-year-old, flailing her limbs. Her nightgown whipped around her like a flag caught in a gale-force wind. Lucy’s mother wondered where she had gone wrong. There were seven more days until Christmas.

“That’s it,” her mother said with a final stir of the soup that sat simmering on the stove for dinner. This had gone on too long. “Starting tomorrow, you’re going to become a little volunteer, like an elf. Christmas Eve is in one week, and you’ll be put to work every day until then. Santa will be watching you even more closely now.”

Lucy screamed and ran upstairs to her bedroom, foregoing dinner. Her mother sat in the living room, enjoying hot soup next to their brilliantly lit Christmas tree while she crafted a plan for her daughter.

The following afternoon, mother and disinclined daughter drove to the Laguna Beach Boys and Girls Club. Lucy had been tasked with gathering toys and games she no longer played with for donation. She placed the toys in empty cubbies in the rec room while a group of littler kids stood by to watch. They didn’t wait for her to leave before they dove happily into the spoils. On the way home, Lucy—still fuming about her situation—couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit better.

The next morning, it was on to the Laguna Beach Animal Shelter, where Lucy was introduced to a mid-sized, smiley mutt named Daisy. Reluctantly, she took the dog’s leash—she would rather have been working on her Christmas list—but she couldn’t suppress her giggling as the dog’s wagging tail made its entire body wiggle during the walk. When it was time to leave, Daisy ran a large pink tongue across Lucy’s face, and Lucy shrieked with joy. Later, she wondered whether Daisy would find a family, or if she was lonely in her kennel.

And then, it was on to a department store, where mother and daughter selected armfuls of blankets for the Friends of Supportive Housing. Lucy’s mother caught her peering down the toy aisle when they passed it.

“Mom, do you think Santa thinks I’m being good? Will I get Holiday Barbie and a robot puppy?”

“I don’t know,” said her mother, “and anyway, you know that the spirit of Christmas is about much more than presents.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe in magic or spirits.” But, secretly, she had felt something slowly and magically change in herself: she had started to feel nice, though she wasn’t sure why. Lucy didn’t mention her Christmas list again that day.

For the rest of the week, they were so busy that Lucy almost forgot about her list altogether. It was on to Zero Trash Laguna Day, where they collected garbage in the sun. Then, hours spent rummaging through their pantry, where they came up with several grocery bags of food for the Laguna Food Pantry. And, before they knew it, it was the day before Christmas Eve.

“One last stop,” said her mother, pulling up to Friendship Shelter.

Lucy stood in an assembly line scooping steaming helpings of lasagna onto the plates of the formerly homeless, while her mother helped her with the large metal serving spoon. Lucy was nervous, but she smiled at each diner as they thanked her kindly. She wondered what all of these people would be eating for dinner it weren’t for Friendship Shelter.

And then, her heart stopped. She caught a glance of a tall man in a red t-shirt, with a rounded belly and a long, white beard to match his hair. He was coming up next in line, but Lucy didn’t move a muscle. He looked down at her, and Lucy saw a twinkle like a burst of light in his eye before he winked at her and patted her head. Santa? Watching her, here?

“Nice girl,” he said, before moving on with his lasagna. Lucy’s jaw dropped. Her mother smiled.

That night, as Lucy lay awake, still thinking about Friendship Shelter, she considered what her mother called “the spirit of Christmas.” She hadn’t been sure what that meant, but tonight, she knew she felt it inside her. She had felt it all week. And as she drifted off to sleep, she swore she could hear sleigh bells in the starry sky.

 

Elizabeth Nutt is a freelance writer who relocated in February to Laguna Beach from Boston, Mass.

 

 

 

 

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