Sunday, December 22, 2013

Some Christmas cheer

Mary was born on Christmas day.
Her father and mother loved her.
They were very happy that she came on Christmas day
Because Mary’s last name was “Christmas.”

Mary was happy on her second and third Christmas days because she was
Always reminded of her name when relatives
Would smile and say “Merry Christmas.”

On her fourth Christmas a stranger said “Merry Christmas.”
The stranger had a large belly, a red nose and white whiskers.
“How did he know my name?” Mary asked her mother.
“I think he looks like Santa Clause, don’t you?” Mary’s mother
said to Mary as they walked to the store.

A very large woman with a purple and green hat said, “Merry Christmas.”
“How did she know my name?” Mary asked her mother.
“A very good guess, I suppose,” her mother said, smiling.
Mary held her mother’s hand as they went into the store.

They shopped and looked at the Christmas lights and listened to the Christmas music.
“Merry Christmas,” the cashier said to Mary and her mother at the checkout counter.
Mary smiled and said, “Yes, that’s my name.”
The cashier smiled back and continued running their groceries through the scanner.

On Mary’s fifth Christmas her mother said that she was
Almost old enough to start school.
“Will school be like home?” Mary asked.
“A little different, but you will get to meet lots of other children,” her mother said.

When Mary was five and a half her mother took her to school.
Mary looked at all the other boys and girls. They stared at her.
Mary’s mother talked with the teacher. Her mother said that she would come for Mary as soon as kindergarten got out. Mary said good-bye to her mother.

“Welcome to Martin Luther King, junior elementary school, children,” Mary’s teacher said. Her teacher smiled and said “My name is Miss Singleton.” She wrote her name on the green board in the front of the room.

 “Now children,” Miss Singleton said. “I have to take roll. That means I will call your name and you will answer here or present.” Miss Singleton opened her roll book and said, “Mary Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” the class answered, all but Mary.

“Present,” Mary said. The other children giggled.

Miss Singleton tapped her pen on the roll book. “Now children, it’s a long way to Christmas, isn’t it?

“Yes, Miss Singleton,” the class said.

“After I finish taking roll, we will have a recess.”

Outside Mary wanted to play chase with the other children, but the boy with the red shirt said, “No, it’s not Christmas yet.” The other children laughed at Mary.

Mary stood by the slide and watched the other children laugh as they all climbed through the plastic tube that led to the slide. Mary wanted to play with them so much she almost cried.

The bell rang and all the children lined up to go back to the classroom.

At the end of the day Mary’s mother drove up to the school and Mary ran to the car to get in.

“How was your first day?” her mother asked on the way home.

“How come our name has to be Christmas?” Mary asked.

“Well,” her mother said. “A long time ago your great, great grandfather changed his name from Kintermas to Christmas and that’s how you got your last name.”

Mary looked out of the car window at some of the other children as they walked away from school.

“If I was Kintermas they’d let me play chase,” Mary said.

 “The other children wouldn’t let you play chase?”

“No,” Mary said. “One boy said I wasn’t the real Christmas.”

“Whether or not you are the real Christmas, and you are,” Mary’s mother said. “The children should have let you play chase.”

“I had to stand and watch them play,” Mary said.

 “Where’s Rex?” Mary asked, as she looked around the house for her dog.

“Your father took him to the vet. Rex had something wrong with him.”

“They kept laughing at me,” Mary said.

“They shouldn’t have,” Mary’s mother said.

 “Is anybody home,” Mary heard her father shout from downstairs. Mary put her doll Emily on her bed and went downstairs to say hello to her father.

 “How was your first day at school?’ Mary’s father asked. He was taller than her mother and had started growing a beard that tickled Mary’s face when he kissed her on the cheek.

“The other children wouldn’t let me play chase,” Mary said.

“Well, that was their loss,” her father said, sitting down in his big chair. “Did that bother you Mary?”

“They said I wasn’t the real Christmas.”

 “You’re as real as the twenty-fifth of December, that’s for sure,” Mary’s father said.

 “If I was still named Kintermas they would have let me play,” Mary said.

Mary’s father frowned, then smiled. “I think they were just jealous, that’s all. They were probably thinking that you’d have Christmas every day while they’d only have it once a year.”

 “I just want to play with them.”

Mary’s father shrugged. “You’ll just have to find a way to do that tomorrow.”

The next day at recess Mary went up to the boy with the red shirt who said she couldn’t play chase. Mary was a little taller than he was.

“Is that the same shirt you wore yesterday?” Mary asked.

“What if it is?” the boy said.

“I like red,” Mary said. “It reminds me of Christmas.”

The boy looked at Mary. He looked at his shirt. “I guess you can play chase.”

Mary joined the other children who ran away from the girl who was “it.”

Mary’s mother came for Mary when school let out.

“How was your second day?”

“I got to play chase.”

“It must have been a better day than yesterday,” her mother said.

“And nobody laughed at me,” Mary said.

Mary’s mother smiled and drove them home.