By DEREK BECHER
“She’s gone, Thomas. I’m sorry.”
With a hug, the words fell softly from Lisa’s lips as she walked out of the operating room, her own eyes reddening from the moisture of salty tears. Yet, despite the enduring empathy that she showed and offered through these past few months, the words still sounded like an alarm to Thomas, and certainly, they felt like tiny daggers, tearing his heart apart.
His beloved Annabella, who just a year ago was overflowing with a love for life, and energy, had ultimately breathed her last, succumbing to the disease that she had valiantly fought, despite the pain it caused her.
And now, mere days before Christmas, Thomas sat crumpled over in his familiar chair outside the operating room, with his head in his hands, wondering what more he could have done. He was with her every step of the way, caring for her, loving her, somehow bringing hope — and joy — into her life, even as she knew she was dying.
He thought of how long he had searched for someone to join him in his journey through life. But still, he could not believe his fortune when he met Annabella, as they separately wandered along his favorite trail through the forests along the outskirts of town, before meeting each other, and beginning a wonderful, albeit short, life together.
With his torn and heavy heart, Thomas stood up onto his still-trembling legs, offered a grateful hug to each of the nurses, doctors and auxiliary staff members who had generously offered their support and comfort, especially during the last few weeks, and then walked out the front doors of the hospital for the last time, into a gentle snowfall.
On his way home, Thomas thought only of Annabella, and of the blessings she had brought to him. Her beautiful smile; her wonderful sense of humor; the sound of her laughter; her love for children and for family; her love for nature and for being in the surroundings of nature; her concern for the sick, the elderly, and the unfortunate.
Indeed, Annabella had brought fulfillment and completeness to Thomas’ life far beyond what he had ever dreamed. He had often felt that she was an angel who had appeared to join him in his journey, and truly, her heart and her soul were pure and loving.
But now, as he walked along the snowy streets toward his home, a dark emptiness filled his soul, as Thomas realized that he was again alone, and the one and only true love of his life — his dear Annabella — was gone, just days before Christmas.
The day of the funeral came — the second saddest day of his life. In the midst of a season when his heart should be filled with joy, and peace, and hope, despair instead clouded Thomas’ mind and filled his heart, as he said his last farewell to his life’s love.
At home that night, the last one before Christmas Day, Thomas held his favorite picture of his lovely wife tight in his hands, and hugged it close to his chest. Despite his sadness, he let the sounds of the Christmas hymns that they cherished, together, play from the stereo in the living room, as a tiny flame flickered in front of him while he sought any kind of comfort, sitting close to the fireplace.
“Oh, Annabella,” he whispered with a quavering voice, “I love you so deeply. You were the greatest gift I ever received, and I was so blessed to find you, and to have you in my life. Why did He have to take you — especially now?” With a pause, he added, “How will I get through Christmas, and through life, without you?”
The tears on Thomas’ cheek glistened in the light of the slowly fading fire. He wrapped himself in a blanket, curled up tightly with Annabella’s picture, and let his sorrow draw him into the mediocre relief of sleep.
The fire’s flames gave way to a shimmering glow that cast shadows throughout the room from the hot embers at the bottom of the fireplace, and songs of the season still echoed softly as Thomas fell deeper and deeper into sleep, still clutching his beloved’s picture.
His breathing was more rhythmic now, and at last he let go of his sadness and his anguish long enough to allow his weary mind to fall into the relaxation of a dream, a place in sleep that he hadn’t visited for more than a year.
Just then, a soft voice entered the room, and called for him, “Thomas? Thomas, can you hear me?” Thomas turned slightly in his chair, still wandering in his subconscious. The voice came again, this time saying, “Thomas. It’s me, Annabella.”
Thomas’ eyes snapped open wide, as he sat for a moment in light-headed confusion. Again, the voice came, “Hello, Thomas. It’s me.”
Thomas turned his face away from the chair’s cushioned back and looked across the room. Standing on the hearth of the fireplace, silhouetted by the glow of the embers, was Annabella. She smiled at Thomas, and extended her hands toward him.
It was approaching midnight, near the end of Christmas Eve, as Thomas looked with bewilderment at his beautiful Annabella. “Don’t be afraid,” she said, as she stood in a lovely flowing white robe that was stitched in red and drawn closed by a silken green sash.
“But . . . but. . . .,” he tried to put his thoughts together to speak to her, as his reddened eyes watered once more.
Annabella stepped forward, still enveloped by a soft glow, and took hold of Thomas’ hands, helping him up to her. He embraced her and held her as he always did, saying, “I love you Annabella.”
She simply smiled, replying, “I know, Thomas. I love you too, and I always will.”
As Thomas held her, he told her how, in his heart, he fought to welcome the joy of Christmas — their favorite season — but that he felt so hopeless without her. Together, they were blessed with three wonderful Christmases spent in the comfort of their home, continuing traditions they brought from their families, and starting new traditions of their own.
He fondly remembered the Advent calendars they had created, with openings revealing pictures of happiness they shared throughout the year, and wishes they had in their hearts for Christmas and for peace in the coming year. He remembered the Christmas Eve prayer they said each year as they knelt side by side at the foot of their tree, gently placing the wooden figures of their nativity below a lone, softly glowing yellow light.
But the most cherished remembrance of Christmas that he shared with Annabella, as he stood looking at her in the dimly lit room while holding the delicate skin of her soft hands, was the tradition they started at their first Christmas.
It was Annabella’s idea, and Thomas wholeheartedly agreed when she suggested that they stop by the children’s ward of the hospital that Christmas Eve. They brought gingerbread cookies that they baked together that morning, and when they arrived, they read the Christmas Story to the children. Afterward, they sang Christmas carols that the children chose, and then passed around the delicious treats as all the children delighted in the gift of joy that they received.
“Yes, Thomas, I also treasure all of these,” Annabella said, as she held the calendar that Thomas made for her a few weeks earlier, when she lay dying in her hospital bed. “And this is why I’m here,” she added.
Thomas frowned with curiosity, wondering what Annabella was referring to. But before he could ask, she led him toward their tree, and they knelt down together in front of the manger.
“Thomas,” she said, “I have a prayer for us to say tonight that was given to me by a very wonderful lady. Our Holy Mother, Mary, gave this to me, and she asked that we read it together.”
Annabella pulled a slip of paper from the pocket of her robe, and along with Thomas, they read:
“Dear Jesus. Thank you for the gift of joy that you bring us each Christmas. Help us to share this joy with the children of the world, who need it most.”
Together, they knelt for a few moments in silence, staring at the Infant Jesus in the manger below them.
As he turned to her, Annabella smiled, and said, “Thomas, please know that I am always with you, and I always will be with you. I know that your heart hurts right now, and it will. But you must find a way to fill this void by bringing joy to those who most need it. When you do this, your own heart too will be blessed with the joy of Christmas.”
They sat on the chair together, as they held each other tightly, sharing the warmth of the coals and the soft melodies of their favorite carols. Like so many times before, in the comfort of each other’s arms, they rested peacefully, and fell asleep.
Thomas woke in the morning light of Christmas Day. Remembering his dream, he looked for Annabella, but found himself still clutching her picture, as he had before he fell asleep. As the angel that he always thought she was, Annabella came to Thomas in his time of grief and comforted him, promising to always be with him, and even showing him how to deal with his sorrow.
Thomas sat up in his chair, realizing he had something to do on this Christmas Day. Before long, three dozen gingerbread cookies sat cooling on the counter, and the sweet spicy aroma filled his home. Thomas gently stacked the cookies in a cardboard box. Then he found his illustrated The Story of the First Christmas, gathered some song sheets, and then dressed warmly before entering the outdoors for the walk to the hospital. The soft snowfall that came throughout Christmas Eve left the ground and the trees glistening beneath a crisp, clear blue sky.
As he walked to the hospital, Thomas remembered the encounter he had with Annabella, as he dreamed on Christmas Eve. He still sorely missed her, and he felt that he would long for her smile, her laughter, and mostly, her love, for the rest of his life. But he also knew that during their time together on Earth, Annabella loved him deeply, and on the holiest, most peaceful night of the year, she returned to offer Thomas the one gift that he needed most. At the depth of his despair, Annabella promised — and had already proven – that she would always be with him, thereby providing him with the gift of hope.
Moreover, by starting a special tradition with him, and by leading through her own example, Annabella then reminded Thomas that his gift for song, and his genuine concern and care for children and for the less fortunate — that they both shared — would lead him toward replacing his grief with the fulfillment of giving of himself, and the opportunity to make the world a better place for those who most needed it.
Thomas paused in front of the crèche that sat in the freshly fallen snow near the front of the hospital. Inside, he saw the loving looks on the faces of Mary and Joseph, and the peaceful smile on the face of the Infant Jesus. He remembered the prayer that he said with Annabella, “Help us to share this joy with the children of the world, who need it most.”
At that moment, the church bells at the end of the block began to ring out Joy to the World. As he looked at the Baby Jesus, Thomas smiled for the first time in weeks, realizing that the return of the Christ Child that Christmas morning symbolized the ultimate gift of joy and hope that the world ever received. Knowing that Annabella was sharing the moment with him, he whispered a faint, “Thank you, Annabella.”
In his heart, Thomas actually did feel a touch of joy, as the spirit of Christmas momentarily replaced the sorrow that had filled his soul for so long. With his cookies, his storybook, and his song sheets, Thomas stepped through the front doors of the hospital, where he continued a tradition that would last his lifetime.
Every year after, in the midst of the joy of the Christmas season, the one time of the year when Thomas most missed his beloved Annabella, she would return to him in dream, to remind him of how much she loved him. And as Thomas returned to the hospital each Christmas Day, he saw Annabella’s love in the bright smiles of the children who shared laughter and song, and he received the gift of hope, knowing that her love enabled him to share of himself in order to brighten the lives of the hospital children.
This wonderful gift that he received from the children — by letting him give of himself — inspired by the love of his dear Annabella, turned out to be the second-greatest gift that Thomas would ever receive.
(© 2003)
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