Charley’s Angels

Charley sat in his living space looking out at the silent flakes of snow falling past the small window of his basement suite. Some of it got caught in the only branch of the fir tree he could see but most of it ended in the drift against the window-well edge, slowly piling up to increasingly hide the world outside. “If this keeps up,” thought Charley, “Soon I will no longer be able to see much of anything from this place in my world.”

The lonely tears forming in Charley’s eyes added to the progressive obscurity. The few bulbs of colored lights from the Christmas decorations that he could see in the limited view of the fir tree shimmered in the pools lining his lower eyelids. The deep sadness in Charley’s heart was complete on this eve of Christmas as he slumped in his well-worn easy chair, staring out the window.

Charley had waited in vain for a card, or perhaps a phone call from one of his kids in the lead-up to Christmas but they both seemed to be busy with their lives, their precious children, and their importance., “Maybe, I will get a phone call tomorrow, for Christmas Day.” Charley said to himself and heaved a heavy sigh. 

He turned from his gaze out his window to refocus his attention on the TV a few feet in front of his chair.  The news wasn’t all that new anymore and the dramas seemed to have a limited number of plots that circulated through them in a slow progression. The comedies were worse with their hackneyed lines and faked laugh-tracks. Charley would have turned it off but the noise of the people’s voices helped a little to put some distance between him and his loneliness.

While the noise of the television droned on, Charley reached for his phone on the side table within easy reach of his chair. Could it be possible that there was a text message or email from his adult kids living in California? Or any of his grandchildren? Ah, no… the only new message was his ex-wife’s quick hello from Florida where she moved last year with his best friend. “They seemed to make a good couple.” He thought casually. He didn’t respond to the message.

Charley filled in a few grids of Suduko on his phone. Then a couple of Wordle games and some chess puzzles before he tired of the monotony and put it back down.  He had never been comfortable with killing aliens, demons, or anything otherwise so there were no RPGs to play on his phone. And neither was there any more human connections, the absence of which made Charley put the phone down with a little too much force than he had planned. He returned to staring out the window over the top of the snowdrift at the three Christmas bulbs within the borders of his point of view.

A slight knock was heard, almost imperceptible above the cackle of banter between the news anchor and the weather girl on the TV. It was so faint that Charley waited, frozen in silence, to ensure he had heard it. YES! There it was again! Someone had come to his door. That certainly is a strange occurrence. Charley furrowed his brow quizzically as he rose to respond to the door’s beckoning. A visitor was not, at all, what Charley was expecting. 

Before he opened it, Charley heard the echo of the messaging of various agencies of which he was reluctantly familiar, to crowd into his mind. “Be careful!” they said. “There are people who want to scam you!” they called in unison. He reached the deadbolt lever to make sure it was locked and spoke through the door. “Who’s there?” he inquired.

A cheery woman’s voice with a slight British tinge of an accent came clearly through the door. “Hello, Mr. Marks. It is Edith and David James from the church down the street.” it said. Then a man’s voice continued, “We heard that you may be getting low on Christmas cookies and we have come to deliver a few of our own to you, if that’s okay.”

Charley stood for a moment in confusion. He knew the church in question as he had walked past it many times in his warmer-weather walks. He noticed the church sometimes had people of a wide range of ages doing things in and around the building and, on occasion, he had stopped to converse with some of them. They had always seemed friendly enough. He had never been in the building itself though he wasn’t averse to the bits of Christianity that he was familiar with. He couldn’t remember if he had ever shared his address or name, but he must have, as the lady on the other side of the door seemed to know both.

“Just a minute,” Charley called from his side of the door. He was unsure of what to do. Did he want to receive these strangers into his place? He certainly didn’t need the cookies but he acknowledged that this was a nice gesture for Christmas. 

Finally, he made a decision and turned the handle of the deadbolt. He reached down to the door handle and opened the door, peering out into the chilly weather.

“Good evening Mr. Marks.” said the cheery voice again. This time it was attached to a late middle-aged woman, holding a plate of sparkly cookies, under a clear plastic wrap. The woman was dressed in a plaid overcoat with a faux-fur hat-and-gloves set. Her eyes twinkled as she thrust the plate of cookies into Charley’s hands. “Merry Christmas Mr. Marks,” spilled out of David James as his wife did the presentation. He was dressed in a dark-colored overcoat topped with a wedge-shaped hat with flaps to cover his ears. He and his missus stood beaming on the threshold, both their glasses starting to fog from the warmth of Charley’s home. 

“Uhmmm…thank you,” mumbled Charley, awkwardly. He really didn’t know what to say beyond that. 

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Marks,” Edith James effused in that hint of accent. “I hope this helps to fill up your Christmas larder.” She smiled broadly and look at her husband. 

“Jesus loves you,” David said matter-of-factly. “I pray the year coming will be a great one for you!” They both turned to leave the vestibule.

Charley suddenly made an out-of-character decision. Why should he be lonely this Christmas Eve when a solution stood at his door? “Can I make you two some tea?” he inquired hopefully, after them. 

The James’ laughed together as they turned back to Charley’s door, and David responded with, “That would be a delight!”

Charley received them both into his place, taking their coats and hats in a bustle of action and hanging them in the closet. He pointed to where they could put their boots and ushered them into his living room. After turning off the TV, Charley entered the kitchen to make the tea. 

Soon they were sitting in the living room, acquainted enough with each other that they were using first names. The conversation bounced around the comfortable topics of when they moved to the area and from where, who are they attached to, and what things were their interests pursuing. To Charley, the sound of the uncanned human voices was a symphony much too rare in his life. 

They shared the tea, the cookies and the company for a happy while, until the James’ said they were sorry but the time had come for them to take their leave. The conversation continued to be shared as they bundled back up in preparation for their return to the cold and the snow. The last thing David did before they opened the door was to turn to Charley and ask in a solemn manner, “Charley, we are a praying couple. Can we pray for you before we go?”

Charley had never been much for praying but he acquiesced to the prayer from this friendly Christian man from down the street. God knows he had needed the company this particular night. It wasn’t his family, but it was his kind of people, generous and friendly. Charley was especially warmed by the sincerity with which David asked for permission to pray.

David’s prayer was addressed, it seemed to Charley, to a God that he knew personally. It asked all the things that Charley’s heart had wanted. It expressed hope for the year and increased joy and peace. It was a good prayer! Charley felt a sense of peaceful Presence as David spoke. It was the perfect end to a good evening. 

After the prayer, the James’ disappeared into the darkened evening, leaving Charley, still standing strangely warmed looking at the closed door. He returned to his chair and looked out his window once more. He noticed the softly falling random flakes of snow turning colors as the drifted past the Christmas lights. He saw the beauty in the reflections of the snow drift and the dark emerald of the single branch of evergreen he could see from his chair. Charley sighed with content.

Beside his chair, the phone suddenly sounded. It was a very familiar number with a California area code.