Let the record show that Farmer H and I were married at the end of October. Oh, not THIS PAST October! We haven't been living in sin for nigh on 30 years! No siree, Bob! I'm just using the reference to set the stage for the following story. We were married at the end of October, and Farmer H had his first Christmas with my family that year.
Let the record further show that we were simple people. Farmer H moved from a one-bedroom rented apartment into my $17,000 house, which he'd been doing a lot of work on for me. For free. Seeing as how it was going to be his house, too. Also let that fat record reveal that my parents were thrifty people, yet went all-out at Christmas. Farmer H had heard all about it, even though he had not yet attended such festivities.
We were just getting on our feet, paying off some of his previous-marriage debt, him fulfilling his child support responsibilities as well. In addition, we had jointly purchased the 10 acres the Mansion now sits upon, before even inking our signatures to the marriage license. We weren't rich, but we weren't poor. We were living within our means.
My mom asked me to find out what Farmer H would like for Christmas. She didn't give any price limit, but I knew about how much she spent on everybody. Farmer H was not used to big Christmases. I didn't mention an amount to him, but asked what he'd like for a gift.
"I can't think of anything I really need. They don't have to get me nothin'. But a chainsaw would be nice. To work on the land, and start a barn."
I relayed the info to Mom and Dad, and they were glad to know something they could get Farmer H. My dad asked if a refurbished chainsaw would be good enough, because sometimes, it's better to have a higher-end used model than a brand-new cheap model. I was sure that would be fine with Farmer H. Even then, he was all about getting the most for a buck.
Dad thought it would be funny to leave that chainsaw in the basement while we unwrapped the gifts. So that Farmer H would be surprised, in case he started to think he was automatically getting it. Of course Mom and I thought this would be amusing. Poor Farmer H had no idea what he was getting himself into when he married Mrs. HM.
Christmas morning dawned, and we opened our gifts at home, then headed to Mom and Dad's house for dinner and presents there. Sis and the Ex-Mayor and their little boy Neph were there. Young HOS and young future-Veteran had this Christmas with their mom's family, and would be joining us the next weekend for their gifts.
All the gifts were handed out from under the tree. A frenzy of unwrapping commenced. Farmer H had a couple of new sweatshirts, and a nice western shirt, and a knife. You could see him looking around at the gifts. He helped clean up the torn paper, and stack everybody's gifts in front of them, to clear up the clutter. Then he sat back down. I almost felt sorry for him.
"Did everybody have a nice Christmas?" asked my mom.
Of course we all assured her that we did. Even Farmer H. I really did feel sorry for him. He's not a good actor or liar.
"Oh, wait. I think we forgot one gift. It's down in the basement. Farmer H? Would you mind going down to get it?" my dad asked.
"Sure. I'll go get it. Is it where I'll see it?"
"Yeah. It's at the bottom of the steps."
I'm pretty sure Farmer H thought it was another gift for Neph, and that Dad had asked him to get it because he was sitting closer to the basement door than Ex-Mayor.
Farmer H opened the basement door, and there at the bottom of the four concrete steps sat his "new" chainsaw, with just a bow on top.
I think it was one of his best Christmases.
4 comments:
HM--You may not believe me, but this would make a perfect Chicken Soup for the Soul story.
I should not mention Linda--or promise you her help--but I imagine that if you wrote a story, she would be glad to give you feedback on it. (She's been published in 25 collections. I think I got the number right.)
They're looking for Christmas stories. $200 and 10 free copies of the book (which means you would have Christmas presents for 10 people/families). $200 to pay for a casino trip...
Think about it. It's a sweet story (and how often do you do sweet? ;)
Sioux,
I will give this some consideration. It will take a lot of trimming, and as you well know, I am not a naturally sweet person! I hope you're not short-changing Linda on her Soups. She has always been very supportive of my endeavors. In fact, she's been Souper supportive!
I was feeling sorry for Farmer H, even knowing that he was going to get his chainsaw. I'm reminded of the Christmas my sister in law got engaged. She knew she was getting the ring and happily unwrapped layers of paper from several boxes all set inside each other from large box down to ring box size, only to find it empty. The man had the ring in his pocket the whole time.
River,
I did feel kind of bad. My cold, cold heart thawed a few degrees on Christmas day. I'm not surprised that you felt sorry for Farmer H and your sister-in-law. You are more empathetic than I.
My career made me cynical, I think. After the first 10 or 15 times you bend over backwards to help students with various problems, only to find out they're little con artists... you develop a hard shell to limit future disappointments.
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