The Christmas Pin Society, Chapter Eight

The Christmas Pin Society

by Marianne Coyne

Copyright © 2006 Marianne Coyne

Chapter Eight

December 15th I received a call from Hannah. Her voice revealed an inner desire to participate in the auction. Though she still had no plans to attend the event, she managed to work up the courage to donate half of her pins.

Early on the following afternoon I arrived at Hannah's home. Elizabeth and Andrew were there. Elizabeth answered the door. She was always a pretty girl, but she now possessed that particular glow which was the trademark of most pregnant women. Her baby was due in three months, and she was shining with the anticipation of it.

She went to let her mother know I had arrived, and Andrew came into the foyer and warmly greeted me. Hannah walked in with the small box. "Well, here they are, Emma. I hope they'll help," she said shyly. I sensed she felt a bit awkward; perhaps for not wanting to part with all of them. "This is fine, Hannah. Your contribution is appreciated more than you know," I replied. "Please reconsider coming. The Harris' will be there, and they are looking forward to meeting you." Hannah remained silent as she reached in to hug me. “I'll be praying for everyone," she said, as I left the house.

Stepping down the walkway towards my car, I heard a soft voice call my name. Turning, I saw Elizabeth with quickening step approaching. She stood in front of me with the same look she had as a child when the right words were longed for to express something close to her heart. "I know mom really wants to go," she said. I looked at her and smiled. I could tell there was something else on her mind. She hesitated a moment. "They still love each other, you know," she softly remarked. "I know," I answered. "I spoke with daddy this morning. I'm hoping he'll be able to come here for Christmas ~ so that we can all be together." At that moment her vulnerability made it difficult for me to imagine that this child, standing before me, was old enough to have one of her own. "Hope is a wonderful thing, my dear," I said. "Do you believe in miracles, Aunt Emma?" she asked, tenderly. I placed my hand on her arms, which were crossed on top of her belly to keep her coat close about her against the cold. "Yes, I do, Elizabeth," I answered. Then as a smile seemed to come over my whole being, I gave her arm a pat, and with great conviction, repeated, "Yes, I do!"

I left with a good feeling. I suppose, like Elizabeth, I had hope ~ not only for the success of the auction, but for everyone involved; for the Harris', for Angel, for Hannah and Harold, for all who might come together this Christmas season to fulfill a dream for life ~ abundant life. After all, wasn't that the promise of the first Christmas?

Arriving home, I found Isabel in the living room unpacking Christmas decorations. She had already put out some of the figurines we had collected over the years; snowmen, Santas, and angels. The two little angels holding banners with the months of her and Ben's birth, she placed in the center of the coffee table. She was hanging the stockings when I came through the door. "Hi, Mom," she exclaimed, running to me with a stocking dangling in her hand. I gave her a hug. "I thought I'd start decorating!" I kissed her. "Daddy and Ben should be back any minute with the tree," she said. "That's wonderful, Isabel. I can always count on you," I replied. She raised her eyebrows, and came in closer to me, "I saved the nativity," she musically announced in a low voice. We always set out the nativity together. Still, though the children were grown, it was exciting to unwrap and carefully place each beautifully painted character within the holy and magical scene.

Ben's wife, Mary, descended the stairs with a bright smile, holding my precious twenty month old grandson, Robert. "Hello, mother," she said with a hug. "Oh, my darlings," I lovingly uttered, "I'm glad you're here!" She handed me my grandson, whose cheeks I covered with kisses. "Gan-ma! Gan-ma!" he called out with giggles. "He just awoke from a nap," Mary remarked. "I'm going to give him a snack then I can help you with dinner."

Frank and Ben came in with the tree. They decided on a live juniper. It would enliven the house with the green scent of Christmas, and after the holidays, bide its time in Ben's sparse backyard waiting to be planted in the spring. All my dears were around me; my husband and our precious children, bustling with excitement in preparation for that even more precious symbolic birthday. I slipped into my bedroom, and placing Hannah's box on the dresser, I removed mine from the drawer. I put it next to hers. In three days it will all come together, I thought. I took a deep breath and smiled to myself.

Mary was already preparing a salad when I entered the kitchen. While I heated some leftovers from the night before, Isabel set the table. Frank and Ben placed the tree in its celebrated corner in the living room. After dinner we all hurriedly cleaned the kitchen, and spent the rest of the evening listening to Christmas carols while we decorated the tree.

Isabel and I began to put the nativity in place. This year we shared the milestone with little Robert, whose tiny fingers gingerly helped unwrap the figurines. "These are very delicate," I said to him; his eyes wide with the sparkle which accompanies the awe at seeing something magnificent for the first time. Even I still feel that awe each year as I carefully unwrap Mary and Joseph; the shepherd and lamb; the three magi and camel; the donkey, and the angel; as if I, too, was seeing them for the first time. As I slowly revealed the baby and manger, Robert touched it tenderly and said, "Chee chus."

With all the figures in place, I lit the small light within the stable. A glow kissed all the characters. How often I had contemplated this sacred stage; yet it still held for me a curious, singular mystery. Gazing at our task well done, Robert, resisting the temptation to touch by placing one hand behind his back and the other pointing to the nativity, called out, "Mom, dees are veyee deyicit." He reminded me very much of Ben when he was a little boy. In Robert could be seen bits of his father and mother, grandparents, and Isabel, but Ben's features and personality dominated; and still, he was his own person, unique and splendid. I took his pointing hand into mine and kissed it. Suddenly, Ben came in on Robert like a bee buzzing into the most delectable flower, and swooping him up into his arms, buried his face into Robert's tummy, then hovered him over his head. Giggles filled the entire room and my heart.