Of Magic and Mangers: Christmas Stories about The Story by Gene Wilder

Author:Gene Wilder [Wilder, Gene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-09-14T00:00:00+00:00

The air was cold and crisp as Fred walked away from the house. The alcohol had numbed his senses just enough to chase away the chill, but not enough to chase away the pain.

After walking for about an hour, he found himself at the mall. Every inch of the mall’s expanse was draped in the trappings of Christmas. Lights blinked as choirs sang. Children ran to whisper secrets to Santa while parents captured the moment with their cameras. In years past, Fred seldom went to the mall, but ever since the grandkids arrived, he found nothing more enjoyable than going to the mall to buy those special gifts for Christmas.

As Fred looked at the decorations, he felt sick inside. This year, buying for grandkids would be somebody else’s greatest joy. This year, not buying for grandkids would be Fred Snyder’s greatest pain.

As Fred walked by the mall entrance, he heard that familiar sound. “Clang, clang, clink, clang.” There stood the familiar volunteer, bell in hand, dutifully standing beside his red tripod, collecting donations for the Salvation Army.

“Clang, clang, clink, clang.” Most of the shoppers tried to ignore him as he rang his bell, but occasionally someone would stop and place a quarter in his kettle.

“Clang, clang, clink, clang.” This year, the bell seemed louder and more annoying to Fred. As he walked past the bell ringer, he looked to the ground, hoping to avoid eye contact with the Salvation Army’s benevolent beggar.

“Clang, clang, clink, clang.” “How about a donation for the needy?” The bell ringer asked.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the anger, or maybe it was both, but the bell ringer’s question was the spark that lit Fred’s flame. Before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed the bell out of the man’s hand and started ringing it as loudly as he could.

“Clang, clang, clink, clang.” “You like that noise,” he shouted as the poor bell ringer recoiled in fear. “You think just because you’ve got God on your side you can interrupt everybody else’s Christmas by ringing your stupid bell?”

Then, as Fred looked straight into the bell ringer’s eyes, his voice shifted into a cold, dark tone. “You bell ringers don’t really care. You’re just like all those other religious fanatics. You’re just out for the money. Money. Money. Money. That’s what Christmas is all about, isn’t it? People buy Christmas like they buy cars. If you’ve got the cash, you can take the ride. But if the cash isn’t there, neither is Christmas.” And with that, he shoved the bell back at the volunteer and briskly walked away.

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