Read Online All She Ever Wanted by Lynn Austin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lynn Austin
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When the innkeeper turned her away, sending her to the stable to sleep, May got so carried away with her role that she wept real tears and asked, “Can’t we even come in for a drink of water?”
The innkeeper wasn’t the experienced performer that May Elizabeth was; he shook his head and said, “No! That isn’t in the script.”
May was outraged. “You’d better not get leprosy,” she yelled, “because I’ll tell Jesus not to cure you!”
I wasn’t very familiar with the original version of the story, so I thought the altercation was quite gripping. The rest of the audience found it hilarious.
After the program, the Sunday school superintendent passed out candy and oranges to all the kids, and Miss Trimble gave everyone in our class a present. Mine was a necklace with a little gold cross on it. I couldn’t seem to keep the tears out of my eyes when I thanked her for it, especially when she patted my hand and said, “Jesus loves you, Kathleen.” Her eyes looked a little watery, too, but it might have been because she was old.
The church looked so pretty with all the decorations and colored lights that I made up my mind to ask Daddy if we could buy a Christmas tree for once. I sat down beside him on the couch when I got home from the pageant, and he got very quiet when I showed him my new necklace. May Elizabeth had helped me put it on, and I’d already decided that I would never, ever take it off.
“That’s real pretty,” Daddy said. “Looks like good quality, too. It shouldn’t turn your neck green.” His words were meant to reassure me, but I was so alarmed at the thought of my neck turning as green as a Martian’s that I almost forgot what I wanted to ask him.
“Can we get a Christmas tree this year, Daddy?”
He sighed. “A tree is only half the problem. We’d need lights and decorations and all that malarkey… and then people might expect to find some presents underneath it, too. No, we don’t have that kind of money, Kathy. Things are pretty tight, right now.”
I was disappointed but not surprised. If we did get a tree, Poke and JT would probably demolish it faster than you could say “Kris Kringle.” And what good was a tree without any presents? But later that night, after Daddy and Uncle Leonard had polished off a six-pack of beer, he suddenly changed his mind.
“Get your coat on, Kathleen. I think I know where I can get a tree— and lights.”
We jumped into my uncle’s car, and Daddy let me sit up front with him. Our crummy neighborhood looked festive with a handful of Christmas lights twinkling and all the trash and junked cars buried under a layer of snow. We took the road to Bensenville for a ways, then turned off on a side road and headed out to the country where the farms were. As the houses and barns got farther and farther apart, Daddy slowed the car and turned off his headlights. My stomach began to make sickening little flips as we drove another mile in the dark.
“What do you think of that one?” Daddy suddenly asked, pointing to a little pine tree at the end of a farmer’s driveway.
He had lowered his voice to a near whisper, so I answered in a hushed voice, “Isn’t that someone’s front yard?”
“That tree has a nice shape to it, don’t you think? And see? It even has lights.” He pulled the car to a halt beside it and left the engine running.
“I don’t think those people will like us taking their tree, Daddy. …”
“Shh… Let’s listen a minute and see if they have a dog.” He opened the car door and stepped out, scanning the quiet farmyard, listening. “All clear,” he whispered. “Come on.”
He pulled an axe and a saw out of the trunk and motioned for me to follow him. I didn’t know what to do. Getting a Christmas tree had been my idea, so I could hardly back out now. Even so, I was pretty sure that whoever had decorated the row of trees and bushes at the end of this driveway had never intended for people to come along and
The innkeeper wasn’t the experienced performer that May Elizabeth was; he shook his head and said, “No! That isn’t in the script.”
May was outraged. “You’d better not get leprosy,” she yelled, “because I’ll tell Jesus not to cure you!”
I wasn’t very familiar with the original version of the story, so I thought the altercation was quite gripping. The rest of the audience found it hilarious.
After the program, the Sunday school superintendent passed out candy and oranges to all the kids, and Miss Trimble gave everyone in our class a present. Mine was a necklace with a little gold cross on it. I couldn’t seem to keep the tears out of my eyes when I thanked her for it, especially when she patted my hand and said, “Jesus loves you, Kathleen.” Her eyes looked a little watery, too, but it might have been because she was old.
The church looked so pretty with all the decorations and colored lights that I made up my mind to ask Daddy if we could buy a Christmas tree for once. I sat down beside him on the couch when I got home from the pageant, and he got very quiet when I showed him my new necklace. May Elizabeth had helped me put it on, and I’d already decided that I would never, ever take it off.
“That’s real pretty,” Daddy said. “Looks like good quality, too. It shouldn’t turn your neck green.” His words were meant to reassure me, but I was so alarmed at the thought of my neck turning as green as a Martian’s that I almost forgot what I wanted to ask him.
“Can we get a Christmas tree this year, Daddy?”
He sighed. “A tree is only half the problem. We’d need lights and decorations and all that malarkey… and then people might expect to find some presents underneath it, too. No, we don’t have that kind of money, Kathy. Things are pretty tight, right now.”
I was disappointed but not surprised. If we did get a tree, Poke and JT would probably demolish it faster than you could say “Kris Kringle.” And what good was a tree without any presents? But later that night, after Daddy and Uncle Leonard had polished off a six-pack of beer, he suddenly changed his mind.
“Get your coat on, Kathleen. I think I know where I can get a tree— and lights.”
We jumped into my uncle’s car, and Daddy let me sit up front with him. Our crummy neighborhood looked festive with a handful of Christmas lights twinkling and all the trash and junked cars buried under a layer of snow. We took the road to Bensenville for a ways, then turned off on a side road and headed out to the country where the farms were. As the houses and barns got farther and farther apart, Daddy slowed the car and turned off his headlights. My stomach began to make sickening little flips as we drove another mile in the dark.
“What do you think of that one?” Daddy suddenly asked, pointing to a little pine tree at the end of a farmer’s driveway.
He had lowered his voice to a near whisper, so I answered in a hushed voice, “Isn’t that someone’s front yard?”
“That tree has a nice shape to it, don’t you think? And see? It even has lights.” He pulled the car to a halt beside it and left the engine running.
“I don’t think those people will like us taking their tree, Daddy. …”
“Shh… Let’s listen a minute and see if they have a dog.” He opened the car door and stepped out, scanning the quiet farmyard, listening. “All clear,” he whispered. “Come on.”
He pulled an axe and a saw out of the trunk and motioned for me to follow him. I didn’t know what to do. Getting a Christmas tree had been my idea, so I could hardly back out now. Even so, I was pretty sure that whoever had decorated the row of trees and bushes at the end of this driveway had never intended for people to come along and
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