Kris (33 page)

“There was love?” Jacob asked, identifying instinctively the truth of the scene before him.

“Yes, and there was tragedy,” Sara said.

Jacob saw an open bag of toys lying before him at his feet. He carefully rummaged through the toys and selected one to examine more closely. It seemed similar to the ones his children had received on Christmas.

“I was so angry with him. Finally I had my own family, and someone was trying to take my place. I was so afraid he would steal their hearts from me.” Jacob paused. “He's sick because he jumped in a frozen river to save my son. This is my fault.”

“Now I know you are related, taking responsibility for that which is outside the powers of any man.” Sarah smiled, shaking her head.

“I never meant any harm,” Jacob said mostly to himself, unsure what to say or do next.

Sarah came to his aid. “Let that rest, child. You have a lifetime of questions that you may now fear to have answered. Nonetheless, the time is here.”

The cabin was still except for the sound of the crackling fire that illuminated the main living area. I sat propped up under a thick pile of blankets covering the massive bed as Gabriella fussed over me, wiping my brow and forcing warm broth down my throat despite my protestations. She finally relented when my lovely Sarah sat down, rescuing me from Gabby's care.

What was to be was to be. I knew how badly I must have looked because I felt it. No matter how much hot liquid they put inside my body, I was where I was.

My loving Sarah kissed me on the lips and stroked my forehead.

“I have someone who would like to meet you,” she said coyly. “This is Jacob.”

And there he stood, the image of my father. What I had thought to be a dream was some uncanny reality.

“You're the one,” I said, beckoning him over.

“I am?” he asked, standing there comically, almost like a timid child.

“The one who saved me,” I said, clarifying my meaning. “You look so much like my father, long gone now. In my delirious state, I thought you were he, coming to rescue me.”

“Maybe it was,” Jacob said.

“That is a nice sentiment,” I replied as I ruminated for a moment. “How did you find me?”

“You gave my daughter this.” And Jacob held up the little snowflake I had given his daughter.

“Ona … I am sorry for any fear or trouble I have caused your village.”

But he waved off my comment. “The illness was the fear inside me,” he stated; then he handed me the tiny snowflake. “You have them everywhere.”

“They remind me …”

“Of what?”

“Many things. That all the children on the earth are our family.”

“Where did you get it?”

“That is a story almost forgotten.”

I lost my battle to suppress my cough and began hacking against the fluid that filled my chest. Sarah ran to my side once again with the warm broth, which actually made me feel a little better.

“Sometimes I can still smell the smoke.”

“Hush, my love.” Sarah touched my hand, standing up from the bedside and crossing to the fire in order to refill the cup once again with steaming liquid from the small cauldron that hung there.

“Tell me,” Jacob said earnestly, taking the cup from Sarah and sitting beside me. He truly was the image of my father.

“I think my life began on that day,” I said to him. “My village died of the plague when I was but a boy.”

I could clearly recall the vivid images of the flames bursting into the sky and the searing heat of the burning houses.

“Stealing her last hours of life, my mother bade me find homes for my seven brothers and sisters before she passed.”

Visions of my confused and frightened siblings danced before my eyes.

“And so on that Christmas Eve we set off to find places of shelter for each of them. And I left them to their fates, with families and people unknown.”

As I told him the details of every delivery, my animated movement on the bed caused the mattress to nudge the bedside table, and a carved miniature horse began to rock back and forth as I spoke.

Jacob watched the rocking horse as it continued on its timeless journey to nowhere.

“When all the children, save my infant brother Nikko, had been dispersed, and my mother had finally lost her struggle against death, we found ourselves alone.”

I remembered how Nikko and I had trudged through the snow and surrendered to the night. And I told Jacob how I had lain in the snow beside the infant, sure that death had caught us at last. Then I told him of the star flash and the embers from the chimney. How I had fooled the older couple by knocking on the door, and how I had reached in through the window while they were distracted, leaving my tiny brother in their care.

Jacob listened with sincere attention, asking probing questions at times, but remained silent for most of the telling.

I told him how I was rescued by a man and his wife who were to become my family and my salvation. How I finally came to understand, after so much pain and loss, that there was goodness and happiness in the world. And, I learned that I had a gift for woodwork and for the invention of toys.

I could see back into the distant corners of my mind to my workbench and knife as I carved the rough ends of a wood block in an effort to shape it into a beautiful duck. I could see and feel the shavings as they fell in my imagination until I held up the roughly formed pieces of wood that would fit together to form the moving, flying toy.

“I would go each year in search of my brothers and sisters and secretly observe them in their new homes. I would not disturb them for fear of spoiling their new lives. And so each Christmas I would leave them toys and gifts I had made as a way of telling them I still cared for them and still remembered their beauty and their love.”

I looked at Jacob as he stared at me, transfixed by my story.

“And the infant?” he asked.

“The very next Christmas after the separation of my family, I went back to reunite us. All the others had new families, but I had lost Nikko. I found the cabin of the old cottager with whom I had left him abandoned.”

I stopped to take a deep and painful breath.

“The deliveries grew as I dedicated myself to bringing joy to others at Christmas. I have learned our tragedies are the ashes from which we are intended to rise again, reborn.” I reached over to the rocking horse and stopped its motion.

“Who adopts eight abandoned children from a plague-ridden countryside?” Jacob asked almost comically.

And we laughed.

“I don't know,” I said thoughtfully. “God, I guess.”

Jacob stood near the wall examining a shelf laden with colorful toys. The fire gave a pop from a burst of resin it had discovered. Sarah set
down another steaming mug for me and went to the fireplace to stir the concoction brewing in the pot.

“And you crafted these for the children?” Jacob asked as he lifted one of the toys off the shelf.

“No. Those toys are Nikko's. One for each year.”

I began to cough violently again, and Jacob rushed to my side, lifting the mug Sarah left me to my lips.

“I don't know if it would have made a difference, but I would have liked a gift on Christmas,” Jacob said quietly.

The snowflake hanging from Jacob's neck swayed as he moved beside me and emerged from the opening in his coat. It was a vision I never thought I would live to see.

“Nikko?” I said to him in my shock and sudden recognition of who this man might be.

“Nikko,” Jacob said softly to himself. “I never knew my true name. My new family called me Jacob.”

“It was Nicholas,” I told him. “As a baby we called you Nikko.”

“I used to dream my true father was a great hero, searching for his stolen child.” Jacob removed the snowflake from around his neck and ran his fingers across it. “That my mother was a beautiful princess longing for my return.”

We laughed.

“It's all true,” I said, and our shared laugh slowed to a knowing silence.

“I was always out of place there. I never allowed myself to be a real member of the family. I never let them love me, the couple you left me with. I didn't feel I deserved to be loved. If my own parents didn't want me …”

“I wanted you,” I said to him. “For years I thought if I could just find you, all would be forgiven, all our pain would be forgotten.”

Jacob placed the snowflake and its cord necklace over my head. I grabbed his arm and held onto it for a moment as I struggled against my violent and painful cough.

“Come brother, we have to get you better,” Jacob said with deep sincerity and concern. “There are only eleven months to prepare. What would Christmas be without Santa?”

A
sea of plush red cloth moved through the winter snow
toward the cabin as Santa made his way to Olaf and Ona's window with a large bag of toys slung over his shoulder. He gently placed two gifts on the windowsill and turned to make his way back to the sleigh. Looking over his shoulder, Jacob beamed with delight at the feelings that swelled inside after he had left the gifts for his children. He climbed into the sleigh and set off to spread more holiday joy as he traveled through his village where he planned to share presents with neighbors and friends still asleep in anticipation of Christmas morning.

Now it is the late 1700s, and a Russian merchant just back from his travels carefully places a colorfully wrapped package on the satin
cloth covering a table in his store. He smiles with pride and happiness at the gifts he is about to share. His thick, black hair and mustache are expertly groomed and ready for the party that will soon begin in his establishment.

He steps back with two more packages in his arms and eyes the setting to judge how best to arrange and display them. After a brief consideration, the merchant gently slides the second package into place, and sets the final gift lovingly on top of the other two. He lays sprigs of holly carefully around them all to give an added accent of color.

Now it is 1812 in an energetic London suburb. Inside the Georgian home, pine needles and the ornaments of a Christmas tree rise above the gifts. Three partygoers enter the room and sweep up the presents from underneath the tree. The three quickly move to an archway and cross into another room where their Christmas celebration is in progress. Friends are singing and laughing there, but when the three enter the room and begin to hand out gifts, everyone pauses to cheer in excitement.