With a ping, Moira and Katie were standing at the bottom of the stairs in her house. Gray streaks of dawn were beginning to appear through the windows. The house had an eerie quiet to it that made Katie feel uneasy.
“Something’s wrong, Moira. What is it?”
“I don’t know. Let’s go into your parlor. Maybe the
answer’s in there.”
The two of them moved across the dinning room and entered
the family room. Katie let out a little gasp and stopped at the door. Something
was drastically different.
The tree stood in its usual place, but there were only a
few haphazardly placed ornaments on it. Where normally her father loaded the
tree with several dozen strings of lights (he always liked to say he wanted his
tree visible from the Space Shuttle), there were only two or three and, like
the ornaments, had just been strung here and there. There were only a few
presents under the tree. The stockings hung limp and empty.
“What’s going on, Moira? Who did this to our tree?”
“Hush darlin’. Listen and find out.” She raised her arm,
pointing.
Katie’s eyes went to the spot Moira indicated as she
brought her arm up. She hadn’t noticed before, but her father was in his chair
apparently in some sort of fitful sleep. It was then Katie realized that the
stereo system was silent. Usually, her father stayed up after Midnight Mass
working on the family’s Christmas and listening to Christmas music till he fell
asleep somewhere in the family room.
Katie started to take a step towards him but Moira put a
hand on her shoulder, restraining her. “Wait,” she said.
At that, Katie’s mother entered the room. Her eyes were
puffy. She stood a moment, regarding her husband who was mumbling something in
his sleep. Approaching him, she crouched down and gently put a hand on his arm.
“John? John … are you okay?”
John came awake with a little start. Disoriented for a
moment, he stared at his wife, Sarah, as if she were a stranger. Finally,
consciousness took a firm hold of him. “My God,” he said. “For a moment I was
hoping this was the dream.”
“I know,” she said. “I wish it were, too.”
“Mommy?” a voice behind them said. Moira and Katie turned
to see Colleen enter the room, trailing sleep behind her like the hem of her
too-long nightgown. It was Katie’s teal-colored nightie, her favorite. Katie
was surprised to see her sister wearing it but decided not to say anything.
Sarah rose and went to her daughter. She put her arms
around her and held her close. “Merry Christmas, Tweetie Bird.”
“Merry Christmas,” Colleen yawned back at her. “You, too,
daddy.” John did not seem to hear her.
“Look, Colleen. Santa left a few presents under the tree.
I think they’re for you. Do you want to open them?”
Colleen took a few steps towards the tree then stopped and
looked towards her father. He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and
his face in his hands. She turned back to face her mother. “Maybe not now,
mommy. Maybe later.”
“Okay,” said Sarah. “Why don’t you go get yourself a bowl
of cereal? I’ll be out in the kitchen in a minute, okay?”
“Okay, mommy.”
As Colleen left the room, Sarah went back to John’s chair
and sat on the arm. She began to stroke the back of his head. “I’ve got a small
turkey for today. Nothing fancy. The family will be here around eleven.”
John lifted his
face from his hands and turned his head to face his wife. His cheeks were
stained with tears.
Katie grabbed Moira’s hand and demanded, “What’s wrong with
my father? Tell me!” But Moira said nothing. She continued to stare at the
scene playing out in front of her. Katie heard her father speak.
“My God, Sarah, I never knew a disease could take someone
that fast. I mean, it’s less than a month since the diagnosis. Oh my God, I
still don’t believe it.”
Katie’s patience was growing thin. Anger began to edge her
voice. “Moira, tell me what’s happening. I hate seeing them like this.” The
only response she got from the little spirit was a finger to her lips. Moira
then turned her hand around pointing again at Katie’s parents.
“John, are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. Just give me some time alone.”
Sarah moved off the arm of the chair and knelt in front of
her husband – the exact spot where Katie had knelt last night trying to talk to
her grandmother. “John, listen to me. You’ve always had this ‘Lone Ranger’
attitude when troubles come. It’s the damn stubborn Irishman in you. You
think you can get through anything on your own strength. But you can’t, at
least not this.
“Honey, I need you and you need me. You need all of us. The
only way we’re going to get through this death is together.”
“Death?” echoed Katie turning to Moira. “Who died?. Oh,
God, not grandpa. Please tell me it wasn’t grandpa! He’s been so sick lately.”
Moira continued her silence, forcing Katie to focus her
attention back on her parents.
Sarah still knelt searching John’s face. Finally, he lifted
his eyes and looked into her green eyes, Katie’s eyes. “I know, baby. You’re
right. I need you; I need you so much.” Sarah leaned forward, embracing him.
“Together, babe,” he said. “Together, we’ll survive anything.”
“Come on, now,” she said rising and taking both of his
hands. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ve made some fresh coffee.”
John rose and put his arms around Sarah. They held each
other tight for a moment, then turned and left the room, arms around each other’s
waists.
When they disappeared through the door leading to the
kitchen, Katie whipped around to face Moira. “Okay, Moira,” she demanded. “Tell
me what is going on?”
Moira’s eyes were sad as they met Katie’s. She said
nothing. Instead she drifted over to the mantle and stood, looking at one of
the pictures. Katie, still lost, followed her and began to look at the
different pictures to see what Moira saw.
Running her eyes from frame to frame, Katie saw her
growing-up years captured in 4x6 and 5x7 moments: her first day at school, her
picture from junior high band where she played the flute, her picture with her
parents taken on a trip to Ireland during her freshman year in high
school. When her gaze fell on the last picture, her breath stopped coming. It
was her most recent school photograph, taken in October. Around it, a ribbon
was draped. A black ribbon, the same black ribbon that had been placed on
Grandma O’Houllihan’s picture when she died.
Katie looked from the frame to Moira and back to the frame
again. “What’s this? Why is that ribbon on my picture?”
A twinkle darted about Moira’s eyes as she said, “Be
careful what you wish for, Kate. You just might get it.”
“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“Katie, don’t you remember telling your friend Casey ‘Maybe
I’ll get lucky. I’ll get some horrible disease and die,’ rather than have to go
through Christmas your family.”
“Yes, but …”
“And do you remember fighting with your parents
about going to mass. I believe your exact words were, ‘I’d rather be dead
than have to go through it.’ Well, how’s this for having all your wishes come
true. And by a wee angel’s helper, no less!”
Katie’s expression changed to one of horror and disbelief.
“No! No! Please tell me this isn’t happening, Moira!”
“Things are as you see, Katie dear.”
“No!” Katie looked around, suddenly desperate, as if she
could find some escape. Moira tried to take her hands but Katie would have none
of it. She shoved Moira’s hands away and ran from the room.
Entering the kitchen, she saw her family seated around the
table. No one was eating, but her parents were sipping coffee and talking to
Colleen. Katie rushed over to the table and leaned on it with both hands.
“Mommy!” she shouted, “Daddy! It’s okay. I’m here.” They paid no attention to
her.
Turning to her mother, Katie implored, “Please, mommy! I’m
okay. I’m not dead. This is all a bad dream!” Sarah put her coffee cup down,
smiled at something Colleen had said and ruffled the little girl’s hair. Moira
stepped up behind Katie.
“Katie …” But Katie whipped around and interrupted her.
“Moira, tell them. Tell them I’m okay. Make them see me.”
“I can’t Kate.”
“You’ve got to!”
“But I can’t, I told you …”
“You told me you could make anyone see us who you want. Do
it!”
Moira shook her head sadly at Katie.
“Nooooo!” screamed Katie. “Mommy! Help me! Daddy! I don’t
want to be dead. Please!” After a brief pause when her family did not
acknowledge her presence, Katie turned on her heels and ran out of the room
sobbing uncontrollably.
She stopped at the stairs and collapsed on the steps, her
sobs coming in great gulps. “Please God, please. Send me back. I’ll do
anything, only don’t let me be dead.” She looked up to see Moira standing below
the first step. “Please, Moira, please – change it back. Don’t let me be dead,
please. Please.”
“Katie dear, being dead or not isn’t a matter of choice.
You are or you aren’t and I cannot change that. Only you have that power.”
“What do you mean?” asked Katie, sitting up.
“I mean you can live th’ whole of th’ rest of your life and
still be dead – dead to the love of those around you, dead to God’s love for
you.”
“I don’t want to live like that, Moira, but I don’t want to
be for-real dead either. I swear, I’ll be better. I’ll go to Midnight Mass.
I’ll listen to daddy’s Christmas music and watch that Wonderful Life
movie with him. I swear I will.”
“Kate, it’s more than that. You just ‘don’t get it’ as your
age is fond of sayin’.”
“Then teach me, Moira. I’ll learn.”
Moira smiled. “Darlin’ Kate … what do you think I’ve been
doin’ all this past night with you? You see, what I’m talkin’ about, what I’ve
tried to show you is that Christmas is more than just the singin’ and the
stories. Oh, sure they’re fine and if
you enjoy them, they add to the enjoyment of th’ season.
“But it’s what they are, what they stand for that’s
important.” Moira stepped forward and took Katie’s hands. With a gentle tug,
she pulled her off the stairs until she was kneeling in front of the little
spirit. Suddenly, a great light began to emanate from her slender body. It grew
and grew until it filled the room, obliterating the walls, and allowing Katie
to see for what seemed to be infinity.
“All of these things you so abhor, Katie – the music, the
traditions, everything – these are you connections.”
“Connections to what?” asked Katie.
“Connections to all that you are, to all that’s come before
you and to all that will come after you. Many of the songs you sing today we
sang in my home when I was but a wee girl. The foods you eat in celebration of
the Savior’s birth – turkey or geese, we ate those same foods when we could
afford it. Even the prayers you pray at mass and around the table, we said in
me own home. And that was ages ago.
“A hundred – no, a thousand years from now – people will be
singing the same songs, saying the same prayers and keeping Christmas in much
the same way as my family did and as your family does. And this is what
connects you to all that’s been and all that’s to come. It connects you all the
way up to th’ very throne of God Himself.
“Kate, God has given you so many wonderful gifts. And
today, on this blessed morn, He’s given you th’ greatest gift of all: His Son,
so that you and I might live forever. But you’ve got to believe, Katie. You’ve
got to believe and open your heart to it – to the love of God.”
Suddenly, the light emanating from Moira broke into a
thousand colors, swirling and blending into a thousand more colors. In the
center where the little spirit had been standing came a bright, white light –
the brightest light Katie had ever seen but it didn’t hurt at all to look at
it. In the middle of the light she saw a figure appear. It was a great and tall
figure robed in an even brighter white. She knew at once it was her Guardian
Angel. Inside her head she heard a voice say, “Believe, Katie.”
Breathless at all that was happening in front of her, Katie
couldn’t find her voice, but she sensed the words being formed and spoken in
her heart. “I do,” they said, “I do believe.”
“Then it is all yours,” said the voice inside her head.
“All the love of God is in you. You can only keep it if you give it away.”
“I will,” answered Katie’s heart. “I will.”
“God loves you and blesses you, my dear child. Always.”
The figure faded into the colors, which then began to
separate. Katie felt something moving through Moira’s hands and into hers. The
sensation coursed up her arms and soon filled her with so expansive a feeling
that her sight changed. In an instant she saw everything, all that had been and
all that is. And she loved what she saw. Her heart was changed that moment
forever. Katie had made her connection to God’s love of us all.
Slowly the scene began to fade until the familiar sight of
the front rooms of her house appeared to her. Moira stood in front of her,
baggy tights, electric blue baseball cap and all, still holding her hands. She
was smiling down at the kneeling Katie. “You done good, Kate. You done real
good. Now, stand up.” Katie did so. “Let’s go back up to your room. Dawn’s
comin’ on and I got to be goin’.”
The two girls turned and mounted the stairs.