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Articles: Short Stories | Day of departure on Christmas Eve
- Mrs. sharmila Sanka
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The Love of Jesus was showering in the form of snow on Christmas Eve. It was as if the earth was being filled with His Heavenly blessings. It was as if the nature was also celebrating Christmas Eve in order to fill the hearts of all the beings with endless joy. All the houses were decorated with festoons and candles to light up even the sorrowful hearts. But there was a small house at the end of the street which decorated itself in and out with dirt. As I was passing by to watch the decorations of the houses, I stopped by at the dusty house and peeped through the glass window. My feet got stuck which didn’t let me move further.
There was a 9 year old boy inside the house who was arranging a tiny Christmas tree. He placed some grapes and hung some pears to the withered branch of the Christmas tree. The grapes became the lights waiting to glow at the glow in his eyes. The pears became the gifts waiting to come out to please the little boy’s heart. His eyes fell on a box lying in the corner, blew away the dust, opened it and took out a picture of his dad who LIVED for his country by GIVING UP his life as a soldier on last Christmas Eve. He hung the picture by tying it to the branch of the Christmas tree. He tied a small piece of paper to the tree, breathed all his sorrows out, prayed and then looked at the floor.
The floor happened to be the bed for the little boy. He lay down and I wanted to take a look at the other houses too but for a last look at the boy I turned back and it was then I knew that the boy just pretended to sleep. I then held the wall of the dirty windows anxiously to see what he would do next. The boy woke up to see if the picture of his dad made some moves. He repeated this twice and went back to sleep with tears in his eyes and remembering the letter he wrote to his dad.
‘Dad, you lived for the country and every moment you received awards from the President, I was proud of you. Now that you no longer live on this earth, I realized I cannot be proud of my life here in your absence. I feel the whole world is empty without you. I wanted to become like you but now that I have lost you, I don’t want the same to happen to my child too in future. I know I seem to be selfish to you watching from the edge of the Heaven but this earth seems to be hell to me. It is now I realized your presence is heaven to me. I don’t need any Christmas gift which cannot arrange for our get together. I just want to feel your presence dad, let this picture of yours get folded for me to feel I hugged you tight- ‘Your son just waiting to depart from Earth to Heaven.’
With tears in his eyes he fell asleep awaiting Santa to perform a miracle. It was then a figure appeared and his hand touched his cheeks softly saying- “My son, innocent hearts like yours are tender buds waiting to blossom into flowers.” The little boy breathed in peace as the hand wiped his already half dried tears.
“Are you Santa?” questioned the little boy curiously.
He didn’t know it was the same hand which was holding on to the wall of the window staring at him from such a long time.
‘No dear’, continued the voice. ‘Santa sent me to have a look at all the smiley faces on the streets but I wanted to look at the son who lost his father. I am the Father of all the beings in the Universe. I am thy father too my son. This is the Eve of the departure of your dad from Heaven back to earth to live with you.’ Jesus promised. The little boy’s eyes sparkled; his heart got tightened as he saw the Christmas tree glowing and his dad coming out of the picture. Tears of joy ran down his cheeks and he said, ‘My Lord, I am blessed with your miracle. You have gifted my dad back to me on this Christmas Eve-a wonderful gift sufficient for my whole life. You have proved there is nothing impossible in the world if one has blind faith in you. I might become blind in future but not my faith in you. Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas my Lord.’
“May the world start to experience the love and mercy of God.” - - Sharmila Sanka
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