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Somebody knocked at the door
To-day Mum and Dad are arguing again about petty things as usual. Kathy, that’s the name of Mum, is not happy because Guy, that’s Dad, came back home with a bottle of rum instead of the pack of yogurt she had asked him to buy.
The other day, it was about eggs. It seemed Kathy had forgotten to pay Guy for the five eggs he sold to her. Dad has a small poultry farm in our backyard. Have you ever heard of any husband selling eggs to his wife? No wonder Kathy goes around saying she is a “desperate housewife”. If they knew how traumatizing their behaviour can be for us.
For us… Let me introduce the rest of the family. I’ll start by myself for I am the one who had the idea of telling our story and the amazing things that happened in the days prior to Christmas. My name is April even if I was born in May and I am only eight. My parents used to say that I am an “error”. I always thought they meant “horror” till people around me started saying, reassuringly while looking at me, “She’s cute.” I have two sisters : Gloria, 12, and Diana, just 14, and a brother, Yanis,15.
The problem is that tension is a contagious disease. We children had been contaminated by our parents. If Gloria took Diana’s shoes to go to her dance session, the latter would shoot lethal missiles at her. Gloria would soon retaliate refusing to let Diana borrow her bicycle. Whereas Yanis would take sides with the one who yielded to his blackmail by cleaning his shoes or taking his turn to wash up.
Now you have a clear picture of how nice our family could be. Looking back to those days, I can only recall how miserable I was and all of us were most of the time. Then, something happened… just a few days before Christmas.
Blossoming chest </B>
Mum and Dad were practising their favourite hobby, arguing about nothing and everything when somebody knocked at the door. Nobody paid attention to the doorbell that rang just afterwards or rather, didn’t want to hear it. Gloria was shouting at Diana because she had borrowed her bicycle the day before to go to her yoga session. Diana remarked bluntly that Gloria was sporting her top, the one that moulded so sexily her blossoming chest. Yanis had his MP3 player switched on and was listening to Nadiya’s latest tube.
Mum and Dad had just started around three when the gong, sorry, the doorbell rang again. Dad, who was losing ground in the clash, chose to beat a retreat shamelessly and went to open the door. At first, he saw only a tree and the heady scent of pine filled his nostrils.
Then a white beard emerged from the branches and a voice asked: “Please sir, take my Christmas tree. It’s my last. It’s already dark and I have a long way to go.” After all, thought Guy, I don’t like the plastic white tree Kathy brought from Australia last year. Furthermore, I will, anyway, have to go and buy one downtown in Rose-Hill. This old man has come at the right time.
Seeing that Dad was hesitating, the old man added : “And the decorations are for free.” Dad paid and asked Yanis to put the tree in the living room.
Everyone was admiring it. It was truly the best we had ever seen. It’s shape was perfect. Not too big, not too small, just perfect. The branches showed a vivid green texture and had several flowering ends. Strangely enough, our attention was focused on the tree as soon as it had entered our house. It had been laid in a bucket not far from the TV set by Yanis who was sniffing its golden needles. Gloria and Diana joined in and everyone was touching, smelling or dancing joyfully around.
Where are the decorations? asked Kathy. Gloria opened the red envelope given by the stranger and a handful of colourful garlands, stars, and other pieces of tinsel fell on the floor. We started fixing them onto the large branches, which seemed to gather us all in a friendly embrace.
As we went along, we could read the writings: “May God bless all of us! Many, many more Happy Xmases!” A silver star read : “Let the peace of Christmas fill our hearts” and a blue garland said : “My best gift, a united family.” In the room, nobody talked. Then Gloria broke the silence: “There’s a message for each of us, isn’t it?”
We had a wonderful Christmas day, with a great feeling of joy and peace (without any argument), the best we had had for years. Dad went to Rose-Hill to enquire about the old man who had come to our place with that very special tree. Nobody among the street vendors of Christmas trees had seen anyone around corresponding to his description.
That night, amidst a merry gathering around the table, Kathy said: “We are now a family again. The spirit of Christmas has entered this house at the very moment we bought this tree from that old man. I wonder where he came from…”
Epilogue : Dad is watching on TV his favourite team, Manchester United, playing against Liverpool. And Mum who used to be a Liverpool fan, has joined the club, guess which one…!
<B>Pierre BENOIT</B> <I>From my diary 23 December 2005</I>
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