Hope

Hope

"Oh, Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree." The carolers sang, all smiles. Sitting in the back row of the church, my spiritss low, I felt there couldn't be a more dismal time of year.

Several months have passed since my son disappeared—every parent's worst nightmare! Detectives had interviewed Lou and I, we'd plastered our neighborhood with Jason's picture. As the weeks turned into a month, then two, I despaired. No leads, just random tips, which ended in false hopes. Sleepless nights waiting for the phone or door, any sign our son had been found. Not only that, but Lou and I had been going through a divorce, a nasty time for any child. We've since reconciled, however we were living together, but separate. Strangers in the same, lonely house.

"Well, I thought that was going to help, but it's not." Lou whispered my thoughts aloud after the Bible story was read. I nodded, feeling my heavy heart settle like a weight in my chest.

Why God, why? We were a good family? Our son was a toddler; how could you allow evil people into places meant for children? Of course, I know I can't put the blame entirely on you. I should have watched him more carefully. If only Lou hadn't called, demanding a change in Christmas arrangements. If I hadn't been distracted, he'd be sitting right here, enjoying the service.

"Amen." The pastor ended the lengthy prayer, then said, "If anyone needs prayer, come forward." To my surprise, Lou stood up, eyes suddenly bright, hopeful. Watching her walking down the aisle, I was reminded how strong she'd been in those first weeks, anxiously inquiring after any news.

"Merry Christmas. Won't you come to dinner? It'll take your mind off things." The Potters, our next-door neighbors, were sitting behind us with their kids.

"No thanks. Not me, anyway." I mumbled, not glancing at them. Their son was the same age as ours would be, if he were here.

As everyone milled around talking, Lou returned to our pew. "Ready?" She asked, smiling at me for the first time in months. Nodding, I followed her into the parking lot, where fresh snow was softly falling; clear and white, unspoiled by children. "Pretty, isn't it?" Lou whispered, enjoying the silence.

"Yes, just beautiful." I replied, and actually meant it. As if to ruin the moment, some kids were already throwing snowballs. "Stop that." I yelled unnecessarily loudly, getting smacked with one. Ignoring me, the kids proceeded to target passing cars instead.

***

In another neighborhood, in another house decorated for Christmas, the family gathered around the tree. The boy grinned, surrounded by a pile of presents. "Merry Christmas, Justin." Mom beamed, as Dad snapped pictures.

"Did Santa come?" He asked, not believing his luck. At his parents' nod, he eagerly tore into the first present. As he unwrapped a toddler bike, a set of matchbox cars, and Legos, his parents exchanged proud smiles. They were very fortunate; after years of failed attempts and adoptions, they had a child at last!

***

I awoke Christmas morning to a too-silent house. There should be a child here, running to wake us up. Blearily, I detected noises in the kitchen. Lou, what is she up to? Closing my eyes, I slipped back into dreamland.

"Merry Christmas. Wake up." Lou shook my shoulder, rousing me from my deep slumber. "Let's open presents." Lou announced, rather like an impatient child.

No sooner had I opened my eyes, than she dragged me from the comfort of my bed. Still wearing our pajamas, we went to the living room, me not expecting much. How can she think of celebrating after the year we've had? I wondered.

I blinked, staring at the small pile of presents under our sparsely decorated tree. Our son's stocking still hung by the tree, waiting to be filled. Neither of us couldn't bear to remove it.

After unwrapping her gifts, we settled in front of the TV, eating breakfast off trays. In the kitchen, the aroma of baking cookies filled the air. "Thanks, Lou." I sipped my coffee, and nibbled the cinnamon rolls and eggs she'd prepared. She's always been a decent cook, I really appreciated the gesture, especially now.

"I'm going." Lou said decisively. "You're welcome to come."

"okay, sure. Let me think about it." Right this moment, I was undecided; which did I prefer? Quiet, self-pity, or noise and laughter?

*******

"Very good, Justin." Dad clapped, watching his son tentatively stepping on to the smooth ice rink. So far, the day was going along smoothly—sledding, and meeting friends. Watching Justin skating with his mom, dad smiled at his family enjoying themselves. Other skaters whizzed past, but Justin's focus was on his mom. He watched, copying her moves.

"Not skating?" Another dad joined Justin's on the bench. Dad turned, studying the newcomer. They weren't acquainted with all their neighbors yet, but you couldn't be too careful. This man had black eyes, which seemed to be studying the children closely.

He shook his head. "Never got the hang of it. My wife's the natural."

"My daughter's talented, too. Sylvia starts school soon. Do you have children?"

"Yes, we're homeschooling him, for now. Maybe around kindergarten, we'll consider public school."

"Suit yourself." Both watched their children; his daughter, a little older than Justin, was showing off her spins and jumps.

That night, Justin asked, "Can we go again, Dad?" He yawned, blankets tucked snugly around him. "Sylvia wants to show me more stuff."

"We'll see. Now, go to sleep." Mom spoke from the doorway. Motioning dad out, she looked anxious.

"Whose Sylvia?" Mom asked, lips pursed.

As Dad explained about his meeting with the stranger, his wife looked dubious. "He seemed nice enough." He caressed his wife's face. "Don't worry, everything will work out." He reassured her. He fervently prayed it would.

*****

I confess I didn't show myself at the Potters party. I reheated leftovers, and watched A Christmas Carol, the Jim Carrey version. When Scrooge is visited by three spirits, it was unexpectedly painful; what-ifs crowded my mind, too. If only I hadn't answered Lou's phone call, if only I'd watched more carefully? What if we hadn't been going through a divorce at all? How different everything would be now! I went to bed feeling wretched, not at all contented, like every other person celebrating with family. I didn't even wait up for Lou to return.

*****

"Mom, can Sylvia sleep over. Can she, please?" Justin looked up at his mom, eyes pleading.

Could they risk it? A year had miraculously slipped by since Justin's arrival, but his parents still weren't sure if he'd accidentally slip up. Their careful coaching might not be enough.

"Maybe, dear. Come on, Dad's waiting." In the end, Sylvia spent the night after all, Justin behaved nicely. The next few weeks saw Sylvia and Justin sleeping at one another's houses. Gradually, Justin's parents let their guard down, and allowed more visits with other kids.

"No." Sylvia's dad spoke confidently, "I'm pretty sure that's not their child. I've been watching, and they seem like decent parents." He ended the call. The detectives had been so sure that the tip they'd received would lead somewhere, but so far, nothing had come of following it up.

"What happens now?" Blake looked around his apartment. Where was that boy?

***

On a muggy August afternoon when clothes stick to your seat with sweat, I was sitting in my car after work. Staring across at the playground filled with running children, I became resentful towards Lou once again. Why? How could she have done this to us? Swallowing my hate and misery, I pulled away from the happy scene, another cruel reminder of what could have been.

At supper, I moodily picked at my meal. "No word from the detectives?" I asked, trying to fill the silence.

"Nothing, as usual. The case's grown cold. I keep pestering, though. He must be found."

Lou's optimism astounded me, after all this time. "How can you be hopeful? He's still missing!" I peered at her, wanting answers to my own grief.

 "I just try to remain hopeful. I know it's slim, but miracles happen."

"If you say so." I replied skeptically. "I don't suppose you care about my feelings at all? You've never once asked how I'm coping." I continued, unable to restrain myself any longer.

"Your feeling! What about mine?" Lou stared at me accusingly, hands clasped in front of her. "I'm his mother. If you hadn't turned your back, he'd be in school this year." She said, face flushed. "I miss him." Lou's voice quivered, eyes filling with unshed tears. Standing abruptly, she shoved her chair back, and ran from the room. I sat at the table, staring at her empty plate. Just another night in our house, I heaved a sigh.

*****

"I wanted that one. It must be here." Justin's loud complaint carried in the children's section of the public library. Several people stared disapprovingly, then returned to their magazines. Mom shushed him, explaining that the book in question must be checked out. Exploring further, Mom selected another book, this one about dinosaurs. Justin accepted this, and settled down to read. "Hey there." Sylvia and her dad appeared from another section, books in their arms. As the adults talked, Justin and Syylvia continued reading. Soon, the librarian announced it was nearly closing. At the checkout desk, Justin was put on the waiting list for the much-wanted book. He checked out the dinosaur book with his own library card.

"How was the library?" Dad asked, pouring soapy water over Justin.

Eyes shut, he told dad about meeting Sylvia, and getting his very own library card! "Wonderful!" Dad helped Justin shampoo and rinse his hair.

Tucking Justin into bed, Dad prayed a sincere prayer of thanks, for their child. He was theirs forever.

***

"No, Lou. No new tips. We had one and followed it up, but it proved false." Detective Blake sat down at his cluttered desk. Lou could hear his breathing through the phone. "We'll keep looking." Personally, though, he was feeling depressed about the whole business. Nearly two years was a long time for a child to go missing, and still be alive. The odds were slim. He hoped Lou and her husband would realize this in time. Every parent's nightmare, this one without a reunion in sight.

******

"Lou, I'm sorry." It was a few nights after our dinner argument. I'd been thinking, and decided to just apologize. "Me too." She answered, setting down her book. "I've been praying for you." Lou said simply. "And Jason. Wherever he is, I hope his soul is at peace. If he is alive I obviously want him found, but if he isn't, I've come to terms with the fact his body may never be recovered."

"Really?" I stared at Lou, admitting defeat. Was there no hope left at all? "I've been feeling the same. No leads from Detective Blake. pointless hope." I answered, fists clenched. Tentatively, I touched her shoulder. Facing me, she gazed tearfully out the window. We remained like that as darkness fell, accepting the inevitable.

***

"Santa came. See." Justin jumped on his parents' bed, rudely awakening them from sleep. "Merry Christmas, sweetie." Dad yawned. Mom pushed the rumpled covers aside. "Presents!" Justin squealed, smiling from ear to ear.

That was all the encouragement they needed. Pulling on robes, they sleepily followed their son to the decorated living room. Their second Christmas had begun!

Snow blanketed our street, muffling mine and Lou's footsteps. Such a peaceful scene, straight out of a movie. At the park, we once again replaced flowers on our son's memorial. Like Lou, I've resigned myself to the reality Jason may never be found. Not the best way to start the festive season, but I'm working through it. Lou squeezed my hand supportively as we gazed at the simple shrine. Turning, we slowly left the park, and headed towards home.

"Away in a manger, no crib for a bed." The children sang, dressed in animal and shepherd costumes. Beside them, Mary and Joseph stood next to the manger, where the Baby Jesus, lay, swaddled in a blanket. Parents smiled as the kids concluded the beautiful story. With tears streaming down my face, I recalled past Christmases here, which are now thankfully behind me. A kind of peace settled over me now; I can face whatever happens.

Rising, we applauded as the children bowed, and laughed as the donkey's ears fell off. Yes, this year will be better than the previous ones. I know healing won't come easily, but I believe it will come.

The End