Christmas on Wayside Drive
The winter of 2008 was cold. Colder than any other year she could remember.
As she sat in her empty apartment, she adjusted the small black and white 13-inch television. She was grateful that the small device picked up her favorite TV show. She did not have aluminum foil to place on the antennae, but she found an old earring that helped clear the picture up a bit.
She did not mind having much furniture or nice things. She had all she ever needed, her boys and her angel. She was starting over and had spent the last three months with her folks, working and trying to save enough money to get into a little apartment. A new home and a new start.
The divorce was cold, too. But she could not focus on the past because she had three little mouths to feed and Christmas was right around the corner. Days away to be exact. As much as she dreamed of a big tree and lots of gifts, it was almost impossible this year. Momma and Santa would do what they could, and the rest would be up to God.
Sure, they made lists. Video games and dolls. Superheroes and Legos. Dress-up clothes and nerf guns. It is hard to get in the Christmas spirit when you cannot find out how to get the things on the list.... oh, the list.
Mom, I really want that Lego set. Mom, my friends at school got that new baby and she even pees. Mom... no, mom, that video game is not bloody, I promise.
And so, she went to work, the bills came in and the rent came due. At night she would pray and remind God of his promises of restoration and taking care of His own. But tears do not pay bills and feeling sorry for yourself is not motivating. So, the apartment would not be the only thing empty this year, so would the tree.
When he came in from school, she knew something was up. He walked to the pantry and pulled out a can of peas and asked. Mom, I need this. We are helping a family in need, and I need this. The paper attached to his folder caught her eye, but it was also the orange color on his behavior report that her eye first.
What is the orange for? Mom, I need this. I was excited about helping families I was talking when the teacher was talking, and I had to move down a color. Mom, can I have this can of peas? We will not eat them! They are PEAS! She thought a moment. Times were tough. Even so a can of peas was food, food to fill an empty baby’s belly. But nevertheless, he won, so he took the can of peas to school.
His pre-k was little. It had two classrooms, but she was extremely impressed by her sons’ progress. The next day he said, Mom, we have to win this contest. They are also helping a family get Christmas. Can I have a dollar, please?
She saw in his eyes her competitive spirit but felt in her heart the love and concern he had for people. Also, Mom do we have some more cans? Our class does not have enough. She pulled a dollar from her purse and then went to the pantry which was already bare and asked
him what did he think they might like. He said macaroni; everyone loves noodles. Macaroni was a hot commodity. She knew his love for it and obliged.
So, with macaroni in hand and clinging to that dollar bill, she watched him crawl out the car the next day and into his schoolhouse. She watched as his eyes were beaming as he gave his teacher the dollar and the box of macaroni. Their eyes met, he waved, and he started his day.
Day after day he would ask, and she would find things for him to participate. Mom, what about this? Mom, what are kidney beans? Sounds gross! I am taking it! A quarter here, a can of lima beans there, he was determined to win.
As Christmas day grew closer, she was able to get a few things but not much from their list. Being a single mother, she tried to juggle all the things that had been placed in her lap. At one time there was help. At one time there was a second opinion, a help mate, but now she was all alone to navigate life and three small children all by herself.
Now she was tossed by the wayside...used goods. Her prayer life strengthened as she would cry out to God. Lord, I do not have much to give them but let it be enough. Thank you for supplying our needs and being here for us, but, God, it is Christmas. Please, help me! My heart is breaking, and my pockets are empty.
She could not feel more hopeless. She left it all behind: the house, the furniture, all of it. And there she was trying to figure out how Santa could work his magic and if God really was concerned about her kids Christmas.
The last day before Christmas break was here, and the kids enjoyed their parties and snacks. It was their fathers’ weekend, and she had planned a weekend of rest and sleep and maybe some last-minute shopping even though she still had not got much from the list.
The phone rang early that Friday morning as she was making her way to work. The kids had been dropped off, and she was ready for the weekend. It was the preschool. Mrs. Debbie asked her if she could meet her after school to discuss some things. She agreed and then started to worry.
Questions bombarded her mind. Was he in trouble? Do I go back now? Whose kid is a problem in pre k? What could he have done to have got in trouble in pre k? Was he a biter? Did he beat up a kid or start trouble? Was he going to get kicked out, forced to forever be banished from pre k? Oh, the embarrassment. But she knew her child, and as quickly as the questions came, so did the defense. Surely, he did not do it anything. Not my child! It was probably another kid.
The teacher has the wrong child, knowing her child would never do wrong. But woe unto him if he did. She tried to ignore the questions that infiltrated her mind. But she could not and as time would have it, the day was long and trying to complete her work was difficult with the thought of her rebel son in pre k.
Their father picked them up from school for the weekend, and after work she headed to the scene of the crime. Embarrassed she walked into the little schoolhouse ashamed and worried about what she would soon hear. Ma’am, said Mrs. Debbie, you have such a wonderful son!
She drew a deep breath; maybe he is not getting kicked out after all she thought to herself. He has been so excited lately about Christmas and all the things he asked Santa for. Legos and Nerf Guns are all he talks about, and, by the way, his class won the can food contest.
He was so excited, and when they come back, they get a cupcake party and extra recess. She was smiling from ear to ear, so proud of her son, but wondering why the teacher would not just say this over the phone. Mrs. Debbie, “is that all,” she asked? She was ready to get her restful weekend underway.
No, Mrs. Debbie said. Uh oh, here it comes. Every year the friends and families of the preschool pick a family to give Christmas to. They find out what is on their lists, and all the food donated goes to them and any monies, as well. Also, a local church brings a ham and a turkey and all the trimmings!
That is so nice she replied wanting to relax. “Ma’am, this year our school chose you and your kids,” Mrs. Debbie said. Tears of joy and disbelief ran down her face as box after box of food filled her car.
Mrs. Debbie brought gifts and filled her trunk. As she thanked them over and over again, Mrs. Debbie reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.
“You really have a fine son,” Mrs. Debbie said. “He remembered everything his brother and sister wanted. We helped him make a list. He even knows their sizes.”
Overwhelmed, she thanked everyone again and drove away in disbelief and reaffirming faith that God had not tossed her and her babies by the wayside. She got home and unloaded her treasures: a turkey and a ham, things to make a cake with, apples and oranges, walnuts and candies. And, oh, the gifts: dress-up clothes, a doll that pees, Nerf guns, video games that were not bloody, clothes in their exact sizes, and alone at the bottom of a food box was that can of peas!
She quickly grabbed the wrapping paper and tackled the mountain of blessings God had bestowed on her and her babies. She tried to keep her tears from messing up the wrapping paper and tape so that everything was perfect.
Christmas had come to Wayside Drive, and God had remembered and restored. She placed each gift strategically in a closet where they would never find them. Besides, they would be home tomorrow night, Christmas Eve. She took a deep long breath and thanked God for His blessings and fell asleep warm in her bed and safe in His arms.
The next morning her children in textbook form nagged her all day to open just one gift. The answer would be no, but each of them received their Christmas pajamas.
Late into the evening the kids settled down long enough for them to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life.” She watched their little eyes struggle to stay awake as one by one they cuddled together warm and safe even on Wayside Drive.
When she was sure they were asleep, she and Santa quickly worked their magic. There were so many presents she could not believe her eyes. The stockings were hung, and candy and treats were filled to the top. Santa’s cookies and Coca Cola were by the tree as she stepped back as she was in awe of the work of art.
Even though she felt alone and hopeless, destitute and abandoned, God had shown up on Wayside Drive. Even though it would take a while to get back the things she lost, God had provided even on Wayside Drive.
Three months prior, she had gotten the keys to 404 Wayside Drive. She shook her fist at God and said, “Of all the places you could have put me, you have tossed me by the Wayside?” But now she knew it was a new home for her babies a fresh start, and they were going to make it. Even on Wayside Drive.
Christmas morning light peeked thru the stairwell window. She woke up and got a last few minute tasks complete. And with all the joy Christmas holds “The Little Drummer” blasted throughout the house.
Little feet hit the floor as she heard them startle each other out of bed. Like a heard of elephants, they almost toppled over one another as her youngest son stopped at the foot of the steps in disbelief.
There on the last step was a letter…a letter from Santa! They quickly gave the letter to the oldest and he began to read:
Dear Joseph, Zach, and Trinity: Thank you so much for the cookies and Coca Cola. Thank you for being good kids this year! Santa loves you so much. Be good for your mom. She loves you, too!
P.S. By the way Zach, Santa loves peas. You should try them sometime.
Love Santa!