Pewter Angels (32 page)

After that they walked in silence, the rising moon reflecting off the snow. Henry’s gaze turned to the east and there it was, the first bright star in the sky. He thought of his letter.

“I wonder if Jenny is looking at the same star tonight,” he murmured.

“What did you say, Henry?”

“Oh, nothing, Mrs. Schmidt.”

“Well, here’s my stop. Do you want to see the tree and Santa?” There’s no light in the garage, but I have a flashlight.”

“Oh, I think I should probably get home. My mom’s probably already got supper waiting for me. I was late last night too. Good night, Mrs. Schmidt, I’m glad your day went okay … and thanks for helping out the Engelmanns.”

“It was just fine, Henry. I’m already looking forward to work tomorrow.”

A
s Mrs. Schmidt had promised
, the plastic Santa Claus and the wooden tree were waiting for Henry against the side of the store when he arrived after school. It was unbelievable that he had visualized something and circumstances had come together so quickly to make it happen.

The tree frame was painted green, stood about six feet high and had a star cutout at the top. The plastic Santa Claus was a real prize. It looked almost new. Made of formed plastic, it was only a few inches in depth, but was at least four feet tall. When it was plugged in, red and white lights would make it just as jolly as any of the decorations downtown. A few nails through the white plastic border would anchor it above the store sign.

If he could get it up there.

Henry looked at the two decorations, glad Mrs. Schmidt’s son had delivered them. But how he was going to hang that Santa Claus above the store sign? The ladder he had borrowed might be tall enough, but the Santa was too unwieldy for him to handle alone. And Mr. Engelmann couldn’t really help him, he knew. Just as he was contemplating whether or not he could get his dad to help him, a black van with “Tibbets Electric” written on the side pulled up in front of the store. Out jumped a young man in his late twenties. He was stout with a round face and a beaming smile. He could only be Mrs. Schmidt’s son.

“Hi. Are you Henry?” “Yes.”

“I’m Ron Schmidt. Mom said you might need some help.” “Thanks for bringing the tree and Santa over earlier. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, Hank, glad to help.”

Henry liked the way Ron just cut through all the formalities and called him Hank. He’d known Ron for less than a minute and it was obvious he was a good guy.

“Mom asked me to drop by when I was done for the day and I got off work early, so here I am. Where do you want to put the Santa?”

“Well, I thought just above the sign under the second floor windows, but—”

“No problem, Hank, let’s get to it.” Ron went to the van, tugged out a ladder and leaned it against the store beside the spot where the Coca Cola sign protruded from the building.

“You can put your ladder on the other side.

Henry quickly obeyed. Ron hung a hammer in the pouch he had strapped to his waist, put a bunch of nails in his mouth, and mumbled, “Let’s go, Hank.”

He picked up the Santa. Henry grabbed it too, and together they walked over to the ladders. They climbed up, and when they reached the Coca-Cola sign, Ron reached over and pulled the Santa from Henry’s hands, holding it in place against the building above the sign.

“Okay, Hank, climb up a little higher and just hold it steady,” he said, talking from one side of his mouth and keeping a tight hold on the nails with the other. Locating the holes where the nails should go, he secured Old Saint Nick to the top of Mr. Engelmann’s store.

“I’ll get an extension cord to plug it in,” Henry said, climbing back down the ladder.

“No need to. I’ll just wire it up to the sign,” Ron said. “Can you do that?”

“No problem.” Ron unscrewed a small plate on the top of the Coke sign, looked inside, and said, “Uh huh.” He went down to his van, brought out a piece of wire about four feet long, and climbed back up. He connected one end to the bottom of the Santa Claus and the other end to the Coca-Cola sign.

“Should I go turn off the power?” Henry asked.

“No problem, Hank. As long as I work with one wire at a time and don’t touch the two wires together, it’ll be okay. But don’t you try this.” When he connected the second wire, there was a tiny spark, then Santa Claus lit up.

“Wow! Does that ever look good! It lights up the whole store and looks so Christmassy.”

“Glad you like it.”

Henry liked Ron, too. He remembered what Mr. Engelmann had told him over and over again in their talks. No matter what job a person was assigned in life, if he used it to serve others, he would be happy. It was obvious Ron knew how to serve.

After Ron came down from the ladder, he hoisted it over his shoulder in one smooth motion and fit it back onto the van. “Okay, Hank, where do you want the tree?”

“Well, I thought it would look nice somewhere out front here, maybe on top of that snowbank?”

“No problem.” Ron picked up the tree and walked knee-deep through the drifts Henry had made clearing the walk. He raised the wooden tree and thrust it deeply into the snow.

“Good thing you have all this snow,” he said. “Dad and I usually had to nail a support board on the back to keep it upright before the snow came, but I think this’ll work fine. I guess you want to light this tree, too, Hank?”

“Yeah, I do, but the lights on the roof-line ended up at the back of the store on the east end of the building. There’s about twenty feet of string there, but it’s way too far to reach the Christmas tree.”

“No problem, Hank.” Ron pulled out his wire cutters and walked down the side of the store to where the lights ended. He separated the wire with his fingernails, cut each one, then pulled out a roll of electrician’s tape and wrapped the end of each cut wire. He then brought the cut section of lights to the front of the store. Next, Ron got a stapler from his van and, starting with a light at the very top of the tree, worked his way down, going from one side to the other.

“Looks like you’ve done this before,” Henry commented, watching Ron’s efficiency with awe.

“Oh, lots. Dad and I decorated this tree at least twenty times while he was alive.”

Once again, Ron went to the van, this time bringing out a plug for the end of the wires on the now light-draped tree. He stripped the wires of their rubber insulation and in less then two minutes, a plug was securely attached to the string of lights.

“I hope you have extension cords. Your mom thought you would have some.”

“You bet. Not a problem, Hank.” Another visit to the van produced two long extension cords.

Henry marvelled at how quickly Ron worked, and without complaint. He admired the electrician’s attitude. Henry wanted to have that kind of outlook, too.

“You just about ready for the show, Hank?”

“For sure,” Henry said, rubbing mittened hands together.

Ron plugged in the extension cords, and the lights sprang to life, outlining Mr. Engelmann’s store like a set of lit candles around a white cake. Henry’s mouth hung open as he stared at the magic Ron had performed so quickly. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was every bit as beautiful as the downtown stores.

“Oh, Ron, it’s unbelievable! Thank you so much for doing this. I could never have made it happen on my own!”

“No problem, Hank. Glad you like it.”

Suddenly realizing this was what Ron did to earn a living, Henry dug in his pockets. “Is there any cost, Ron?” He hoped it wouldn’t be any more than the three dollars he had.

“Consider it my Christmas present to you and Mr. Engelmann. I really appreciate Mr. Engelmann hiring my mother. She needed to get out of the house.”

“Thank you so much! And Mr. Engelmann and I are really happy your mom’s working here. I like her; she’s a very nice lady.”

“None better than her; has a heart of gold, Hank. But you’ll find that out soon enough.”

“Well, thanks again, Ron, for doing all this. It’s really nice of you,” Henry said, extending his hand to Ron, who quickly took it and squeezed it so hard Henry thought his bones had been broken.

“No problem, Hank. Well, got to go. Have a date tonight. Can’t leave the little gal waiting.”

After Ron drove away, Henry turned back to admire the store. When he’d seen how beautiful downtown looked with all the lights and everything, he’d prayed to be able to do something similar to Mr. Engelmann’s store … and here it was right before his eyes. It wasn’t just haphazard circumstances coming together out of nowhere to make his wishes come true. He glanced heavenward in thanks and quickly asked for assistance in another matter.

How was he going to tell Mr. Engelmann what he had done? Mr. Engelmann was a proud man who liked to pay his way for everything. Though he was always quick to give charity, he sure didn’t like to receive it.

Then it occurred to Henry how best to tell him. Plan set, Henry entered the store.

“Hi, Mr. Engelmann. Hi, Mrs. Schmidt.”

“Hello, Henry,” they replied, almost in unison.

“How’s Mrs. Engelmann feeling?” Henry wanted to know.

“Oh, she’s a little better today,” Mr. Engelmann replied, “I heard her walking around upstairs a few minutes ago.” Just then Anna appeared at the entrance to the storage room.

“What are you doing up?” Mr. Engelmann asked, rushing to her side.

“Oh, don’t fuss over me, David. I’m fine, maybe a little tired, that’s all.”

“Why are you down here?”

“Well, I heard all this hammering under my window, almost like someone was trying to break in. I thought I’d better come down to see what was going on.”

Mr. Engelmann turned to Henry. “Is something going on?”

The moment of truth had arrived. Henry looked into his boss’s eyes. He knew Mr. Engelmann liked to be acknowledged that way. He had often said, “The eyes are the windows to the soul. A man who’s truthful can look you straight in the eyes.” And that was the way it usually started. First came the look and then the teaching. Henry was going to show Mr. Engelmann just how much he had taught him over the past several months. The student was going to test the master.

Mr. Engelmann waited.

“Over the last few months, you’ve taught me it is as important to know how to receive as it is to give.”

“Yes,” Mr. Engelmann nodded.

“You’ve also taught me that our main purpose in life, regardless of what we do, is to serve others.”

“Yes,” Mr. Engelmann nodded again.

“You also said that when we serve others, we often receive great joy ourselves, simply as a result of our service,” Henry continued, surprising himself. The look in Mr. Engelmann’s eyes told Henry he was surprised too.

“Tonight, Mr. Engelmann, a few of us wanted to show our appreciation to you and Mrs. Engelmann. My mom and dad want to express their thanks for hiring me and being so kind and good to me. And although Mrs. Schmidt just started here, she also wants to let you know how much she appreciates working here. And I want you to know how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me. I love working here, and I’m really lucky to have you as my boss and friend.”

Mr. Engelmann stared at Henry, clearly at a loss for words.

“Tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Engelmann, we want you to accept our gift. It came from the heart and is waiting for you outside.”

They turned to look at Mrs. Engelmann, unsure if she should go outside.

“Oh, don’t worry about me!” she said, and snatched up a coat from the back door. Henry thought the coat was Mrs. Schmidt’s; it looked as if five of Mrs. Engelmann could fit in it.

“Well, let’s go see!” Anna exclaimed, excited and curious now.

Henry led them all outside, down the steps to the sidewalk.

“Okay,” Henry said, “here is our gift to you both.”

Mr. and Mrs. Engelmann and Mrs. Schmidt turned around together. Henry didn’t need to look at the storefront; he could see it mirrored in the expression on their faces. They were awestruck by what they saw, but the lights on the store could not compete with the light of happiness that sparkled in the Engelmann’s eyes and filled the tears that flowed down their cheeks.

Overcome, Mr. Engelmann could not speak. He just shook his head from side to side. Mrs. Engelmann cupped her hands together under her chin, almost as if she were praying, the oversized coat around her shoulders flapping in the wind like a pair of wings. Her face beamed, and for once the threat of her illness receded a bit. And Mrs. Schmidt looked a bit like Saint Nick herself: round and jolly and smiling from ear to ear.

“It’s wonderful, Henry,” she said. “It looks so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Henry replied. “And thank you, too, for getting your son to help.” Henry expected her to say, “No problem, Hank,” like her son would’ve, but she just broadened her smile.

Henry waited for some response from Mr. Engelmann, a bit nervous about what he might be thinking. He hoped the Engelmanns would accept the gift and not argue about who owed what. Henry studied the old man, trying to decipher the look in his eyes. At first it seemed like he was trying to swallow his pride, but slowly Henry came to realize that Mr. Engelmann saw their offering for what it was—a gift of love.

When Mr. Engelmann finally spoke, he said, “Henry, this is the most beautiful Christmas gift anyone, besides my Anna, has ever given to me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

He came over and gave Henry a fatherly hug. Henry had never dreamed he would ever be able to teach anything to someone as wise as Mr. Engelmann.

No sooner had Mr. Engelmann let go of Henry than Mrs. Engelmann came over and opened her arms. Henry bent down a bit and stepped into them gladly, surprised by the strength emotion had given the usually frail woman. He held her lightly, gingerly, afraid to hurt her. Her heart pounded and between sobs of joy she thanked him over and over again. When they parted, the side of his face and his shirt collar were wet with her tears.