The Love Bird

The bright red and green ornaments echo Christmas throughout the entire house. The smell of fresh baked gingerbread wafts from the kitchen. The presents are the size of boulders. Puppies, toys, clothes. Everyone’s smiling. At least, that’s what you would expect from Christmas.

My family and I have never had a “normal” Christmas. In fact, sometimes I forget that Christmas exists at all. When someone says the word Christmas, I just think of a holiday where money is important. Christmas revolves around money. The holidays are full of cheer… and piles of money. People spend so much money around Christmas, and that’s what makes them happy. Except, I’m not happy. Because money is the only thing that my family doesn’t have. 

Walking home from school is not a fun experience. My grandpa’s old snow jacket squeezes my chest. My old worn shoes are soaked with snow and ice, and every step makes me feel colder, and my backpack feel heavier. It does feel nice to leave school. When I leave the schoolhouse, I leave the insults and laughter that revolve around my head. It’s almost like I’m wearing a hat that says “BE MEAN TO ME!” I’m also leaving the empty lunch table in the back of the cafeteria. No one wants to sit with me. I think they’d rather sit on the floor. And I’d rather eat lunch in the locker rooms, but one of the staff members caught me, and apparently I can’t do that anymore.

The snow was becoming lighter, so I took advantage of the slight sunlight peeking through the dark clouds and sprinted back to my house. If you can even call it a house. It seemed more like a small cabin. My father once told me that my grandfather had built it with his bare hands, but Gramps seemed too old to even pick up his spoon when he ate. I laughed at the thought and pulled off my boots. I threw them next to the porch and took a deep breath. At school, I almost felt normal. But inside this little cabin, with my family all looking at me, I felt like an alien from Mars who was too poor to fly himself back to his home planet. My eyes started watering, but I choked back the tears. When you’re me, you never cry. I’ve never dared to cry.

I twisted the knob and stepped inside. 

“Hello? I’m home!” I yelled, confused. Normally, my father would be sitting on the couch reading a newspaper next to the lamp, and my mother would be making dinner. (Although, for her, making dinner was heating up canned soup.) This time, though, it was dark, and I couldn’t see anything, much less anyone. I stood by the door for a couple seconds before I had a mini heart attack. The switch on the lamp flicked up and my entire family shouted, “Surprise!” I jumped up, slightly winded, and laughed.

“What the heck?” I said, smiling.

“Merry Christmas.” My mother pulled me into a tight hug. I didn’t hug her back, but rather enjoyed her soft embrace. When she finally pulled away, my father gave me a pat on the back. His unkept beard didn’t dare to hide his lips that were curled up into a smile. My dad’s eyes always seemed like they were twinkling, but I was the only one who really knew there was sadness in his eyes. He was like me. He never showed it. 

“We were waiting for you,” My mom said happily, “Now. Dinner’s almost ready. Why don’t you just relax.”

I went to my room, put down my bags, and sat on my bed.

“If only we were happy.” I thought to myself. I looked towards my mirror. I might be kind of pretty, if it weren’t for my dirt-stained clothes. I had my grandpa’s eyes, dark brown, and long sandy hair. My smooth pale skin definitely didn’t compliment my dark, sad eyes. 

I left the room and ambled over towards my grandpa, who was sitting on the couch, looking like he was about ready for a nap. Can’t say I’m surprised.

“Hey Gramps.” I said, sitting down next to him. He seemed uninterested, so I threw in a “Merry Christmas”. 

It was a while before he said, “You know, your grandma would’ve loved this.” He stared down at his wrinkled hands and fiddled with them.

And I did something I never would’ve done in my entire life. I threw my arm around his shoulders and leaned my head against my grandpa.

“Grandma Leslie was really amazing, Gramps. She’ll always be here with us.”

Grandpa looked uncomfortable for a second, but later gave in to the love.

“She was great. Cancer could never take her away from me.” Tears formed in his small brown eyes.

“All right everyone, dinner’s ready!” 

I helped Gramps up from the couch and slowly walked him towards the table. Right before I sat down, I heard a strange noise. Everyone was inside, and I never imagined hearing something so weird. 

A slow knock came from the front door. 

“Hmmm. On Christmas?” My father said. 

“I’ll get it.” I lifted myself from the old, rickety chair and walked slowly towards the door. It felt almost dangerous, and I couldn’t help feeling scared. I opened the door, and there was a kid that looked my age standing there. He had chestnut hair and bright green eyes. His hands were covered in mittens and holding something strange. A large cage, with a beautiful bird snoozing inside.

“Hello.” He said, somewhat nervously.

“Um. Hi.” I looked into his eyes, “Have I seen you before?”

“Yes, we go to the same school.” He laughed, pretty sarcastically. 

“Oh yeah.” I I looked down at the ground.

After a long, awkward silence, he finally said something. 

“Uh. I just want to give you this.” He lifted the bird cage towards me, “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh,” I said, my hands still glued to my sides. “Sorry, we can’t take it. We um-”

“Please.” The pleading look in his eyes made me have second thoughts.

When I came back into the kitchen, I was holding a cage with a small bird inside.

___________________________________________

At first, my family was furious. 

“A bird?!” They would shout. “We can barely take care of ourselves without you dragging stranger’s birds through the house!”

The bird woke up, and lifted his head out from under his wing. I quickly took him up to my room, and opened up the cage. I’ve read fiction books about pheonixs, but this bird seemed even more beautiful than I could imagine. The feathers on its head were bright yellow, followed by a gorgeous orange on his body, leading into sapphire red on its tail. It was probably the most beautiful bird I had ever seen.

At the bottom of a cage, I found a small note. 

“This bird is very special. Learn to care for it and love it. It is strong and beautiful, and hopefully will make you realize the truth.”

“What truth?” I thought, re-reading the note a couple of times. “And, how am I supposed to take care of it? I don’t know anything-”

But my thoughts were interrupted by the bird rubbing its small head against my arm. I played with it for a while before I realized how fuzzy and happy it made me feel.

__________________________________________

The next couple days were the scariest of my life. I didn’t have school, but the bird was work enough. Hours and hours of my time were devoted to trying to feed it. It wouldn’t eat anything. Even the bird seeds I bought with my extra allowance. Stupid money. Always disappoints you in the end. It would cough all the time, and all it did was sleep and cry. Then it would play, then nap again. It reminded me of Grandpa, so I named the little bird James, after my Gramps. 

It squawked a lot. The empty noise in the house was replaced with deafening screams and screeches. I spent a lot of time with the bird. I tried taking him to a park to let him go like my father requested, but James stuck to my shoulder like a bad wart. 

We were sitting at the table, all silent. James was perched at the top of a broken shelf, staring down at us. I didn’t even realize that he had jumped down and sat on the table. Next thing I knew, he was picking up each of our hands and placing them on top of each other. I laughed, and surprisingly, so did everyone else. James seemed satisfied and flew back up onto the shelf.

“Wow. Even your little bird knows that we should love each other.” My mother smiled.

“Yeah. I guess he does.” I looked back up at the fiery colored bird, and swore that I saw him wink. 

Later that night, James squawked louder than ever before. 

“Shut that bird up!” My father yelled from his room.

I got up from my bed and saw the cage was empty. I ran through the house and saw James by the front door, screeching and yelling.

“Come on James.” I picked him up and started walking back towards my room before a familiar knock sounded behind me.

___________________________________________

I looked at this stranger sitting on my couch, his clothes drenched in water, smiling and looking around the dark living room. 

“So, what’d you name ‘im?” He asked.

“Uh. James.” I said softly.

“All right. I think it’s time I explained something.” He smiled, James perched on his finger.

The boy started talking about how this bird wasn't a normal bird at all. He was a peculiar little fellow, but I already realized that. This bird fed on love. It was the Love Bird. He was coughing in the beginning because I didn’t have very much love. He taught people and helped them realize what was right in front of them.

“And what’s right in front of me?” I asked.

“You should know that.” He stared back into my eyes.

I smiled as the thought came to me. “I don’t need money. My parents try their hardest every day to provide for us. They do whatever they can to keep me happy. Christmas doesn’t mean money.”

The kid grinned broadly and started walking towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” I stood up.

“You’ve learned your lesson.”

___________________________________________

My family at first had thought that I let the bird go, but were partially relieved. I didn’t bother telling them the truth. I walked into the kitchen one morning, and did something completely outside my comfort zone. I sat. And I cried. I cried and cried and cried. Tears streamed down my face, some happy, most of them sad. It felt pretty amazing, and no one was angry. In fact, they were happy. School didn’t get much better, but I made a friend. The boy never told me his name, but he told me to call him James since that’s what I named the special bird he gave me. So, school was getting better.

I never saw James the bird again, but I didn’t need to. All I needed was hope and love. My family had provided me with that my entire life. I was extremely happy that this bird came and changed my entire viewpoint. Christmas is now my favorite holiday.