It's Christmas Eve and the snow is falling gently outside, looking like a gorgeous postcard scene to onlookers, but I can only feel the bitter cold and see the messy slush that makes the roads and sidewalks slick. My name is Rosina White and I just moved from Missouri to New York for my new job as an editor. I'm wearing a powder blue, flowing dress, walking into a crowded banquet hall. Colorful lights and garland hung everywhere, and in the middle of the circular room, there was a huge Christmas tree. Among the many faces, I only knew a few people. I didn't want to come to this Christmas party but I'm alone for the holidays since I'm so far away from my family and friends and my nosy, rich neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Aden insisted of me coming here.
I'm standing in the banquet hall awkwardly, wishing that I was a child; the child who saw the magic and excitement in Christmas. I usually like this time of year but I'm feeling so cynical and lonely this year. To me, Christmas is becoming more and more commercial and feels like people are just nice because of the holiday. I'm definitely feeling like Scrooge tonight, looking around at the plastic Christmas decorations with such boredom. I can see that there are Elf on Shelves sitting in line down the stair banister.
"Ugh," I exclaim, "Those things look so creepy! Why can't they look like the sexy elves from the Lord of the Rings?!"
Hearing what I just said, I then think to myself, "And that's why you're twenty-eight and still single."
Then, looking up, I realize that I'm under the mistletoe and I hope that Mr. Aden doesn't notice. Mr. Aden is a nice guy and all but he's too touchy-feely for my comfort.
"I know that this sounds dorky but I wish that the sexy, the Lord of the Rings elven man was still here though," I sigh.
Just as I'm finishing that sentence, I can see a strange man across the room staring at me. He's tall, muscular, has long blonde hair, the most beautiful emerald eyes that I ever seen, and wearing an evergreen tuxedo with white gloves. He also has very pointed ears like an elf.
"That has to be a Christmas costume of kind," I think, "but still, he's hot though." To my surprise, as a slow song starts, the man is walking towards me.
When he approaches me, he bows and says, "Do you want to dance Rosina?"
I gasp at the sound of my name but I just think, "Mrs. Aden must have told him."
I roll my eyes slightly but I say with a kind smile, "Sure." He takes my hand and twirls me onto the dance floor. One of his hands is gently holding my hand and another is holding my waist, while I wrap my arms around his neck.
While we begin to dance, the man says: "Mrs. Aden didn't tell me your name Rosina."
I asks with great suspicion: "How do you know my name then?"
"Because I'm a Christmas elf," he says nonchalantly, "And oh...I'm not wearing a costume."
"He's either crazy or really committed to the Christmas character that he was playing," I'm thinking, getting a little nervous.
He chuckles and asks: "Don't you believe me?"
I shake my head hesitantly and he raises one hand in the air, snapping his fingers. Then, all of a sudden, all of the people, except for me, in the banquet hall begin to levitate. Dancing the waltz, they are twirling and twirling in the air like ghosts above me but they don't seem to notice. I'm watching them with total fear and awe. Seeing my face, he belly laughs. He snaps his fingers again and everybody returns to the floor, still acting like nothing happened.
He asks, "Believe me now?"
With my eyes widened, I say: "You're an elf or I'm on some really strong drugs and I never did drugs ever in my life!"
We continue dancing silently and I can't stop staring at this handsome elven man with curiosity and embarrassing lust. After a few minutes, I finally asks something: "So what's your name?"
"Aubrey," he says with a smile.
I asks, "You're really a Christmas elf?"
"Yes I am," he says proudly, "Don't I look like a Christmas elf?"
"Um...well..." I look over at the stair banister.
"Not all Christmas elves look like the same," Aubrey laughs, "I think that we both know that J.R.R. Tolkien was more accurate with the description of elves.
I giggle at his statement. Then, I ask: "Why are you here?"
"To help you to get your Christmas spirit back," Aubrey says happily, "You did wish for me to come."
"I sort of...did," I think with astonishment.
"So," Aubrey asks, "Why do you have such the holiday blues? Why aren't you with family and friends?"
I let out an exasperated sigh and say: "It's just people are only nice and cheerful because it's the season and if you don't act happy in December like everybody else, they think that something is wrong with you! And as for visiting my family...I really wanted to but I just started a new job here and I'm not exactly rolling in dough right now. Even though my parents wanted me to come, I just couldn't."
I become quiet after that sentence, feeling sad and ashamed.
Aubrey asks with sympathy: "Why don't you call them?"
"They don't want to hear from me," I say in a very melancholy tone, "I don't know if they even support me in my career choice."
"Are you sure about that?" Aubrey abruptly twirls me again and suddenly I'm standing in the middle of my house back in Missouri. The one-story house is crammed with my family. The Christmas tree is medium-sized, glittery, bright, and so beautiful. The house is warm and cozy, and the sweet aromas of Mom's cornbread casserole and other foods are in the air. My uncles and my dad are watching football and yelling excitedly at the television. My dozens of cousins and my niece are running around, shouting, singing, laughing, as my aunts and my older sister are hilariously cackling and gossiping. I'm looking around with such joy. I call out to my mom and dad.
"Mama...Daddy!"
"They can't see or hear you," Aubrey says, standing next to me, "but you needed to see this."
My mom is now standing the hallway of the kitchen and announces: "Dinner time!"
It always takes the family a couple of chaotic minutes to gather around the dinning room table and I miss this chaos. We follow them into the room. When my family is finally around the table, my dad stood up to make a toast.
"Thank you to those came here tonight," my dad says with a jolly grin, "We're so blessed to having a close bond no matter what. I know that our baby girl Rosina isn't here with us tonight but we're so happy for her. Her mom and I are especially proud of her for going after her dreams. I don't tell her this like I should but I think that she became a smart and strong young lady and I am truly blessed to have her as one of my daughters. We...I love her so much. Let's raise a glass to Rosina...let her dreams and more come true in the next coming year!"
"To Rosina!" My family cheers and clank their glasses and cups together. I can see happy tears in my dad's blue eyes as he's sitting down.
"I love you too Daddy," I say tearfully, "I love you all."
Aubrey then twirls me back in the banquet hall. He quickly gives me a handkerchief and I wipe my eyes so one no will see me cry.
"Thanks Aubrey," I gulp, "I did need to hear that."
"You're welcome," he replies warmly.
We begin to slow dance again and I put my head on his shoulder, saying: "I know that my family loves me but I still think other people just act nice and caring because of Christmas."
He grabs my chin affectionately, saying: "I think that you should see one more thing."
"Okay."
Aubrey twirls me once again and I'm suddenly standing in a summer camp. The hot sun is beating down on us, a remarkable lake is sparkling, the woods surrounds us, and there are swerving gravel roads. I can see children giggling except for one. A girl with red, short hair and freckles is sitting under a tree crying.
"Who's that," I asks, "Why are we here?"
"Her name is Leann," Aubrey tells me, "She was twelve. She was shy and had hard time to make friends. Her mom decided to make her to go to sleep-away camp to help her gain confidence but the other campers teased her."
"What," I exclaim, "Why don't the counselors help her out?!"
"Let's watch," Aubrey says.
Leann is crying, when then an older girl with long, curly, brown hair walks up, sits next to her, and wraps an arm around her.
"Who's that older girl?"
"Brittany," Aubrey explains, "She was seventeen. She was a camp counselor, the only camp counselor that looked after her. Not because it was her job, not because it was expected of her, but because she truly cared."
Brittany says in a bubbly but calming voice, "What's up girl?"
"Stephanie said...," Leann sobs, "She said that I was too ugly to be her friend."
"Really," asks Brittany, "Why do you want to be friends with someone like that?"
"I don't know..."
"Friends accept you for you," continues Brittany, "Looks shouldn't matter but you're beyond beautiful! She's just jealous."
Leann smiles and hugs her.
Aubrey twirls me and I'm now standing in a log cabin. Leann is making her bed, singing sweetly but loudly, having a voice like Mariah Carey.
"She has a pretty voice," I note.
Aubrey nods.
Then, Brittany walks in and says: "You have an awesome voice Leann! Why don't you sign up for the talent show?"
"I can't," Leann says quietly.
"Why not," asks Brittany, "Do you like singing?"
"I love it," smiles Leann.
"Leann had extreme stage fright," Aubrey tells me, "but Brittany encouraged her to do what she loved and take a chance."
Aubrey twirls me and I'm now in the audience of the camp's talent show. Leann's name is announced and she walks on the stage, looking very nervous as she steps up to microphone. The other campers are whispering and snickering but from behind the stage, I can hear Brittany to her: "You can do it, just show 'em. I believe in you."
The music begins and Leann opens her mouth. At first, the other campers look bewildered, then excited, as they start clapping to the beat. Seeing this, Leann gets into it, singing more confidently, even dancing. When the song ends, she gets a standing ovation. I'm even clapping and cheering with them. I can tell that this is such incredible moment for Leann. She isn't scared to be herself thanks to Brittany. My heart is smiling for the both of them.
Aubrey twirls me and it's the last day of camp. Both Leann and Brittany have tears in their eyes. Brittany gives her a piece of paper, saying: "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always available, I promise."
"And she kept her promise," says Aubrey, twirling me. He twirls me over and over and I can flashes of memories. Over the years, Leann and Brittany talked daily online, talking about boys, friends, and school. Brittany and Leann always had each other's backs, through every heartbreak, through every triumph. Leann even got the courage to start singing on Youtube. As I watch them practically grow up together with each memory, I laugh, I cry, I feel pride.
When Aubrey stops twirling me, I'm standing in a cold, dark, smoky bar in New York.
"When Leann was twenty-one," he says, "she moved here to become a..."
"To become a singer," I smile.
"Yep," he chuckles, "Tonight is her first gig with her band. It isn't her dream gig but still a gig. She wanted to call Brittany but she didn't want to bother her on Christmas Eve."
"Aw," I exclaim.
"But," he continues, "there's a surprise standing in front of the stage." He points to the stage. I look and gasp.
"It's Brittany!" She's standing in front of the audience. As soon as Leann steps up to the microphone, she sees her too, her mouth falls open out of surprise. Leann has grown into a gorgeous woman with pixie-styled, strawberry hair and fair skin but she still has a child-like sparkle in her eyes.
From the audience, I can Brittany say to her like when Leann was a kid: "I believe in you."
Then, Leann begins to sing confidently and proudly.
"Brittany didn't come just because it's Christmas," Aubrey tells me, "or just to be nice, or because she felt like she had to but because she genuinely cares."
I burst into tears out of pure happiness.
He twirls me one last time and we are back in the banquet hall. I wipe my eyes again. He makes me face the Christmas tree and says in my ear: "Look around and tell me what you see now."
I look around. I don't see just a huge tree, I also see lights that twinkle like stars on Christmas eve night and ornaments that children love to hang. I don't see just faces that I might know but I see kind, truly friendly faces, laughing and singing together. The whole room seem to be even more brighter than before.
"This place is so beautiful," I smile.
"See," he says happily, turning me to face him, "I know that humans can get so caught up in the celebration that they forgot what they're actually celebrating but there are kind people out in the world and Christmas isn't about material things or even nice gestures. You can feel Christmas all year round in your heart."
"Thank you so much," I say, hugging him tightly. Then, I realize the song that we are dancing to is finally ending and I ask: "You have to go, don't you?"
"Yes," Aubrey says, "sadly I do but there's just one thing." He then kisses me long and hard on the lips. His lips are soft, warm, and exhilarating.
"Merry Christmas Rosina," he says softly.
"Merry Christmas," I say back, nearly breathless.
He disappears just as the last note of the song plays. I'm sad that he left but I'm grateful that he came to me tonight and opened my eyes.
When I leave the party, my faith in people and my Christmas spirit is completely restored. I decide to call my mom and dad when I get home but now as I slowly walk down the street, I admire the falling snow, saying: "Man, I'm so blessed to be in such a pretty city tonight!"
(c)Lena Holdman, all rights reserved 2016
Merry Christmas! Smooches!! 🗢
No comments:
Post a Comment