The Joy of Christmas by Amy Newmark

Author:Amy Newmark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chicken Soup for the Soul

An Unexpected Gift

I was in a Nativity play as a kid. Back then, I played the donkey.

~Tatiana Maslany

It was early afternoon on Christmas Eve when I called my family in London, England. As each person came to the phone I heard the creak of a 300-year-old door and the distinctive click, click of heels along the oak floor of the hallway.

I could almost smell the floor polish. I knew the scene intimately. I could hear the distinctive tick tock of the commanding grandfather clock in the corner, partially hidden by an enormous Christmas tree laden with gifts. I could see the spiral mahogany staircase where, as children, we sat on the steps guessing the contents of the small wrapped packages dangling on the Christmas tree.

A wave of nostalgia swept over me. I gazed through the dining room window of my new home in America. I looked out over rolling acres and a long, sweeping driveway, reminding myself that we bought the ranch because it reminded us of the English countryside.

Suddenly, I spotted a large truck parked across the bottom of our driveway. A man was opening the gate to the pasture. Surely, they weren’t rustling cattle in broad daylight on Christmas Eve. My husband was not home, so I phoned the sheriff.

Then I went out the side entrance of the house, where I had an uninterrupted view of the yard and driveway. The commotion seemed to involve two men chasing what appeared to be a very large dog. The man holding the gate open helped chase the animal into the field where the cattle were grazing. Then he quickly closed the gate. I watched in horror as the animal trotted toward the herd and disappeared among the calves. He was as large as the calves and a big dog would cause chaos in the herd.

Mopping his forehead with a handkerchief, an older gentleman walked toward me. “I’m sorry Ma’am,” he said. “I’m a neighbor. Mind if I sit for a moment? That critter just about wore me out.” I brought him a glass of water; he got his breath back and continued the story. “The boys will catch him,” he said. “We won’t be troubling you much longer. The critter got loose, ran up the road and turned into your driveway.”

Having put on my eyeglasses I saw more clearly the activity in the pasture. An hour went by and the “critter” still ran free. Reinforcements arrived; ten people were now in the pasture. “He likes an apple, cinnamon pancakes or a slice of toast,” said the neighbor. “You wouldn’t happen to have a bite we could tempt the critter with, would you?”

I toasted four hamburger buns and sliced up an apple. I was not prepared to make cinnamon pancakes for the critter.

The critter gobbled up the apple and toast, skillfully avoiding all attempts at capture. “Darn it,” said the neighbor, after another hour had passed. “I’ve had enough. That critter is yours, for free, if you want him.”

We shook hands

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