Inspired by imagery and music from the 'Trans Siberian Orchestra's Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24' comes my second attempt at reality-based fiction. I'll post bits and pieces of this tale throught the month, the conclusion will be on December 24th. Enjoy!
Sam was a different little girl - even she realized that. It wasn't just her ability to play music the way she did that set her apart, it was how she saw the world. She just looked at people and life differently than everyone else.
But like most other little girls, she loved Christmas. She loved it for the music - it always struck her as being so powerful. She loved it for the people - Christmas always brought visitors to her parent's parties, and there were always one or two like her. She liked getting presents, too, but that usually was never a high point.
Christmas was a little over a week off, and it just so happened that tonight was one of her parent's big work parties. She never felt the most welcome at such things, so she contented herself to stay in her room. Her room was really fairly spartan, lacking many of the dolls and other trappings that would usually be found in such places. On the other side of her bed, next to the desk where she did her homework stood her favorite thing in the whole and entire universe - her synthesizer keyboard.
She looked over at it, and as so often seemed to happen, her feelings, thoughts, and just the idea of the season had once again inspired her to try to create. It was just kind of an overwhelmeing need to somehow let what was inside of her heart out. She slipped in front of the keyboard, sat down on the old stool her Dad had given her from the garage, and put the headphones over her ears (so no one else would be disturbed by what she was doing).
She pushed the power switch, and a faint 'pop' in her headphones was followed by a dull green glow from the preset lights on the keyboard. The room was otherwise dark, and she kind of liked it that way. It helped her to concentrate. With but a minute's thought, she started to play.
Her music quickly turned to the melody of 'O Come, All Ye Faithful'. Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned past an hour, but using the synthesizer's memory & recording, her music soon was an incredible arrangement, with a pipe organ, trumpets, and even a string bass. What she'd created was so real that she could imagine herself in a grand Cathedral somewhere hearing it on Christmas Eve.
She wanted someone to hear what she'd done, but her Dad was unquestionably busy with his guests. Her Mom would be busily running around downstairs, and her brother and sister...
Well... They just probably wouldn't care.
Sam listened to the playback once more, and then pushed the power switch which would store her creation and took off her headphones. She slid off of her stool, and decided to go and see if she could get a little snack from the party.
As soon as she opened the door to her bedroom, a flood of voices made its way to her ears. She tiptoed down the hallway and found the kitchen and living room to be a forest of adult's legs and shoes. She looked down at her worn flannel nightgown and bare feet, and decided it was worth the risk to try to venture her way through the crowd and get a treat.
Most of the goodies were set up on a sidebar near the kitchen counter (which seemed to be an impossible distance for her to go without getting stepped on), but as polietely as she could, she started to work her way between the groups of visitng adults. When she couldn't find her way around what looked to be the final obstacle between her and her goal, she was about to tap the adult on the leg and say 'excuse me', when she suddenly found herself lifted clear off of her feet.
Startled, she soon found herself turned around and four feet off of the floor but safely in the big arms of Mr. Roberts, one of her Dad's best friends. She instantly grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a hug - he was one of her Dad's friends that saw things like she did.
"I was wondering when you were going to come see me, Little Lady," he said and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "How are you tonight?"
"I'm okay. How're you?" Sam looked over just long enough to notice Mrs. Roberts and added, "Hello Mrs. Roberts!"
"Hello Sam," Mrs. Roberts smiled brightly. "Are you all ready for Christmas?"
"Oh, I guess so." She grinned bashfully and asked, "Seems how I'm up here, I don't suppose I could get a ride over to the goodies, could I?"
Mr. Roberts did his best to try to look hurt. "Do you mean you didn't come out here just to see me?"
Sam gave him another hug and whispered in his ear, "I came for that too!"
Mr. Roberts took her to the trays of salami and cheese, where she selected what she wanted and nibbled on them while they visited a little more.
"Sam, how's your music?" Mrs. Roberts asked.
"I just made 'O Come All Ye Faithful' with organs and trumpets and everything. It's still on my keyboard. Do you wanna come hear?"
"Of course we do," Mr. Roberts smiled.
Sam gently tugged on his pant leg to lead Mr. and Mrs. Roberts off toward her room. Along the way, Mr. Roberts asked, "So, Sam. What do you want for Christmas this year?"
Sam stopped, looked up at her friends, and said, "I want them to hear me." She turned back and stepped through the door to her room. Unaccustomed to the darkness like Sam was, Mr. Roberts switched on the lights and sat down on the bed next to his wife. Sam turned on the keyboard, but hesitated before she pulled the headphones out of the jack so the music would come out of the speaker. She turned the volume down quite a little before she pressed the playback button.
The music brought instant smiles from Mr. and Mrs. Roberts. Although they couldn't see the door from where they sat, it brought an almost immediate arrival of Sam's mother in the doorway, coupled with a quelling stare. Unwilling to say anything given the company Sam was in, she turned and left almost as quickly.
Sam really didn't let the look from her Mom bother her very much, as she knew she wasn't doing anything that was going to get herself in trouble. She watched Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, and noticed they didn't speak or look away - their attention seemed to be focused completely on the synthesizer's speaker.
Sam didn't know what to think when the music ended, as neither Mr. nor Mrs. Roberts moved for several minutes after the last chord faded away.
Finally, Mrs. Roberts brushed at her eyes, then reached out her arms and half whispered, "Come here, Sam."
Sam moved closer and soon found herself wrapped in a warm, tight hug. As nice as it was, it was kind of confusing, because she thought she could feel Mrs. Roberts trying not to cry.
*****
The following days passed just as they should for a little girl like Sam, with just a sprinkling of things being the way she wanted them. Her time was far from being her own, as she still had to go to school (until vacation started after Friday!) and do stuff for her mom, but she managed to do some things for she needed, too.
Tuesday, after school, Sam absolutely raced home from school and up to her room and started her homework. She did her spelling words (she had a big test on Thursday), read the pages in her science book that told how volcanoes erupt, and did the mulitplication page that her teacher had handed out earlier that day. She'd barely had time to put her things back in her schoolbag when she heard her mom call her down to supper.
The conversation at the supper table was, for the most part, a little beyond Sam. Her parents talked back and forth about people that she'd never met, and her brother and sister talked about friends they had that were older than her. She absorbed what she could and commented here and there, but soon had her dinner finished and asked if she could be excused from the table.
"Put your dishes in the sink, please," her mom said.
After she'd rinsed her dishes off, she stopped next to her mom and asked, "Can I go out and play?"
"Do you have your homework done?" Mom asked.
"Yup."
"Where are you going?"
"Across the street," Sam said.
"When are you coming home?" Mom asked.
"Seven thirty?" Sam asked tentatively.
"Be good," Mom said finally.
Sam went quickly to the hall closet, slipped on her coat, hat, and mittens, then excitedly opened the front door and slipped into the cold night air. Not but a few minutes later, she pushed the doorbell button at a rather friendly looking house across the street. The door opened almost immediately, as if she were expected.
"Hello Samantha," the older lady who appeared in the doorway said happily.
"Hello Mrs. Miller," Sam said as she looked up and smiled. "How are you tonight?"
"Oh just fine, Dear. Come in, come in, I have everything ready."
As soon as the door closed behind her, every part of Sam suddenly became warm. Mrs. Miller's house was immaculate, filled with wood furniture and lots of photographs, and it smelled like fresh cookies. Sam took off her hat and mittens, stuffed them in her coat pocket, then hung her coat on a hook on the wall (which had one day magically appeared, several feet below those used by the adults).
Mrs. Miller waved Sam ahead into the living room, where a set of wing-backed chairs were angled toward the gas-burning fireplace. A denim bag sat on the floor next to each, and a small table next to the chair on the right held a plate with three cookies and a tall glass of milk.
"You made cookies for me?" Sam asked as she settled into the chair on the right.
Mrs. Miller smiled and said, "Oh, don't think too much of it, Dear. It was just something to occupy my time." She reached into the bag next to her chair and pulled out an afghan and yarn. She started to work while Sam sampled a cookie and milk.
Once Sam had finished her snack, pulled out her own afghan (which was a smaller version of Mrs. Miller's), and started stitching, Mrs. Miller asked, "How is everything, Dear?"
Simple though it was, that one question started a conversation that lasted for the next hour and a half. They visited about Sam's music, her school work, her friends, Mrs. Miller's plans to go see her son over Christmas, and about how Christmas used to be when Mr. Miller was here.
They had a delightful time, and when Sam had to go, she left with a squishy bundle wrapped in plain brown paper under her arm.
Sam had a pretty good day at school on Thursday. She thought her spelling test had gone pretty well, and she liked the story they'd read in class during the afternoon. Pretty happy, she wandered home through a light snow that was adding to the foot already on the ground.
Once she stepped inside the house, she closed the door and called, "Mom! I'm home!"
Looking a little rushed, Sam's mom quickly appeared in the entryway. "Sam, I have to run to the store and get a few things, and there's no one around to watch you, so you'll have to come with me."
"Okay Mom," Sam said easily. She soon followed her mom out to the car, and since neither her brother nor sister was around, she strapped herself into the front passenger's seat (A bit of a treat, since that seat was usually taken by either of her siblings).
Sam followed their way across town by watching out the window. She didn't know the names for the streets they followed, but she knew her mom was driving toward the shopping mall on the East edge of town. There wasn't an awful lot said during their trip, as her mom took driving pretty seriously and didn't really like distractions.
Once the car was parked, Sam's mom took her hand and held onto it. Sam didn't mind it at all, as it made her sure they wouldn't be separated, and it also somehow slowed her mom down quite a bit. It wasn't just a matter of speed, either. Her mom started to talk to her, and to point out things she thought were interesting.
As far as interesting went, the very first thing Sam noticed was the music. It was a Christmas carol, a variation of 'Jingle Bells'. Most adults would have called it 'elevator music', but regardless, it was music, so it instantly grabbed Sam's attention.
The mall was lavishly decorated - garlands, Christmas trees, lights, snowmen (made of fake snow, of course!), and displays with moving statues (mostly of Santa Claus and his elves) seemed to be everywhere. All of that coupled with all of the people was almost more than Sam could take in - she couldn't help but stop and look and listen fairly frequently.
Sam was too far lost in the spectacle to notice that her mother seemed to be as amazed by the sights as she was.
They wandered in and out of stores, her mom's armful of bags accumulating slowly but steadily. At what turned out to be the last store, Sam ended up carrying the bag from her mom's purchase (which made her feel kind of important). As soon as they stepped out of the store, Sam's gaze fell across the promenade to a jovial looking man with a white beard and red suit sitting on a fancy wood chair.
Sam's heart inadvertantly skipped a beat... It was him!
Mom smiled. "Do you want to go see him, Sam?"
There was a lot about Santa Claus that Sam didn't understand. The whole thing about living at the North Pole and taking toys to all the children around the world on Christmas Eve seemed to be too much to believe. She was... What was the adult word??? Becoming skeptical about it.
Still, to go and visit with him seemed to be good insurance.
Sam nodded at her mother and said, "Okay."
"There's no line. Go ahead," Mom said with a hint of a smile.
Sam wandered across the way to where he sat, and stood a good ten feet away, once again, taking him in. The man smiled generously, but did his best to look her over with the same observant eye.
"Hello little lady," Santa said happily.
"Hi," Sam said, a little bit bashful.
The man held out his arms and asked, "Would you like to come and visit for a bit?"
Sam gave it one last thought, then rushed up to the man. She was immediately boosted up on to his lap, and one of his arms steadied her as she looked up at him.
"And how are you today?" He asked.
"I'm fine. How are you?
"Happy to be here. Are you all ready for Christmas?"
"I guess so," Sam said. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Santa said happily.
"Where are your reindeer?"
Santa smiled. "They were hungry when we flew in, so they ran off to a nice field outside of town to have a snack. They'll be back after me in a bit."
Satisfied with the answer, Sam smiled.
"You've heard the way this all works, haven't you?" Santa asked.
"Yup. How did your list come out this year?"
"Well, of course there were good little boys and girls everywhere, quite a few more this year than last."
"Really?" Sam asked. "That sounds like a good thing."
"Oh, it is... It is..." Santa said happily. "And you were definitely one of the good little girls. So... What would you like for Christmas?"
Sam looked away for a minute, and tried to decide how to say what she wanted to say. Finally, she looked back at him and said, "Some people seem like they get too busy to stop and listen. For Christmas, I want people to hear me."
Santa looked surprised at first, but then understanding seemed to dawn. He smiled and gave Sam a big hug (not unlike what you'd expect from Santa Claus).
"I'll do what I can," he promised.
Sam woke up to find herself energized. It was, after all, Christmas Eve morning. Christmas Eve had always held wonder for her. Although she was perhaps a bit skeptical of 'Santa Claus', the excitement of seeing friends and family the next day as well as giving what gifts she had was always something she enjoyed.
Sam sat up in bed, blinked a time or two to clear her eyes and to allow them to get used to the light, and then her gaze settled on her synthesizer keyboard. She usually practiced at night, but she knew she had other things to do tonight. So... She slipped out of bed, sat herself behind her keyboard, put on her headphones, closed her eyes, and began to play.
She didn't know how long she played, as she commonly lost track of time while she was practicing. She was startled and jumped noticeably when her Dad's hand fell on her shoulder. She took her headphones off and looked up at him.
"Do you think you're ready for tonight?" Dad asked.
"I'm a little scared," Sam admitted.
"You'll do fine," Dad said, and smiled. "Breakfast is ready."
"Okay Dad," Sam said as she turned the power on her synthesizer off. She slipped off of her stool and followed Dad to the kitchen.
All sorts of activities followed breakfast. Sam watched cartoons with her brother and sister, helped her Dad shovel the sidewalk (she smiled and waved conspiratorily when she saw Mrs. Miller across the street), she played in the snow, and even (accidentally?) took a nap near the fireplace in the family room before supper.
After dinner, and after Sam had taken her dishes from the table to the sink, Mom shooed her off to take a bath. Ordinarily, Sam got herself ready for bed after a bath, but this time Mom helped her to put on a new dress, comb her hair, and tie a red bow to hold her hair back out of her eyes.
Mom seemed like she was rushing everywhere, from helping Sam, to straightening her brother's tie, to suggesting that Dad wear black shoes instead of blue tinted ones, but soon, everyone made their way out to the car.
Sam wtached out the windows as Dad drove through the light snow to Church. With the snow, the Christmas lights, and her family being together, Sam was having a wonderful Christmas Eve.
*****
Sam's perfect night took a little bit of a turn once she stepped through the doors of the cavernous Church and took a look at the crowd that had already gathered. Her hand involuntarily tightened around her Dad's.
He must have noticed, because he looked down at her and asked, "What's wrong, Sam?"
"There're lots of people here!" Sam half-whispered, wide-eyed.
"We'll catch up with you," Dad said to Mom. Once Mom and her brother and sister had moved off to find a seat, Dad knelt down in front of Sam so he could look her in the eye. "Sam, you play beautifully. You're going to do fine."
"But... Dad... There are so many people here... And..."
"And what?" Dad asked, smiling just a bit.
"There's no way they're going to turn the lights off for me so stuff will go away."
Dad smiled and put his hand in front of her eyes. "All you have to do is close your eyes."
When Dad moved his hand, Sam smiled. "I didn't think of that."
"You're going to do fine, because you have an incredible gift, because you're my daughter, and because I love you," Dad said.
Sam nodded and said, "I love you too, Dad."
After a hug, Dad took Sam's hand again and lead the way through the mass of filled seats to where their family was sitting. Sam always had to sit in the middle, but this time dad made everyone scoot down so she could sit next to the aisle.
Sam ducked her head this way and that, trying to see through the crowd to where the church's organ was. She never actually saw it, but she did see Mrs. Roberts, who she knew would be playing tonight. That made Sam feel a lot better - knowing that her friend would be beside her if something happened.
The service started soon, and Sam tried to pay attention to what she could. With everyone being seated, Sam could see her synthesizer keyboard and stool, where it sat connected to the church's organ.
Close to an hour (although it seemed to be only a few minutes) after the service started, Dad whispered to Sam, "It's time, Sam."
With an expression that she hoped hid how nervous she was, Sam slipped from her seat and walked to where the church organ and her synthesizer sat. Being as small as she was, she was hardly noticed. When she got to the organ, she whispered back and forth with Mrs. Roberts who was seated behind the organ. As they talked, Mrs. Roberts made the proper presets on the organ.
"You're going to do fine, Sam," Mrs. Roberts whispered finally.
Reassured, Sam smiled, moved to her stool, sat down, and closed her eyes.
Not but a minute later, Sam heard the sound of chimes that Mrs. Roberts was actually creating with the church's organ. Seamlessly, Sam started to play on her synthesizer as soon as the introduction ended. Since her synthesizer was connected to the organ, Sam's music echoed throughout the church's sound system, and it briefly stunned her with its body and power.
Once Sam settled down and really started to play, images formed in her mind. Sam saw Mrs. Miller sitting across from her, knitting on her afghan as they visited. She saw her mother, looking at all of the decorations and listening to the music when they'd gone shopping. She could see Dad again, while they were out shoveling the walk this morning, and she saw her brother and sister while they all played together in the snow.
Once again, although it was close to ten minutes later, it seemed like it was only seconds before she heard Mrs. Roberts play the chimes that indicated it was time to end her solo. Almost expertly, Sam created a place for her music to end.
When Sam finally opened her eyes, the silence in the church was absolutely deafening.
From her stool, she could see out into the crowd. As she looked from face to face, she realized she'd gotten what she had asked Santa for this Christmas - they had heard her. Most people were smiling broadly, some looked stunned, and a few were crying or at least close to it. Sam would never be able to explain how, but when she looked across the church and saw the tears in her mother's eyes, if for only a second, she understood exactly what had happened.
She knew that those who were smiling had always known that Christmas was not about giving - it was about giving of yourself; that giving of your time, your friendship, and of your love was so much better a gift than could be bought at any store. She knew that those who looked a bit stunned had known it for a while or only recently come to understand, and she knew that those with tears had missed it almost completely until now.
The minister had resumed the service when Sam slipped off of her stool, so the hug that Mrs. Roberts met Sam with went largely un-noticed. "Merry Christmas, Sam," she whispered before Sam went back to her family.
When Sam slipped back into her seat next to her Dad, he whispered a few words of encouragement, which she loved. Although she did her best to pay attention to things, maybe it was what her music had taken out of her, and maybe it was just that little girls get tired after eight o'clock sometimes, but Sam soon fell asleep snuggled up next to her Dad.
Sam didn't even realize that she might have missed anything, but the next time her eyes really opened, she was back home in her bedroom. Mom was in front of her, and she was struggling a bit trying to take Sam's new dress off without much help from Sam.
"Hello sleepyhead," Mom said with a bit of a smile.
"Hi mom." Sam held her arms above her head so mom could slip her dress off.
Mom moved to the closet to hang it up, and reappeared in front of Sam with her flannel nightgown. Once mom had slipped it on her, Sam couldn't help but smile a bit at its cuddly warmth.
"All right, under the covers," Mom said gently but firmly.
Sam was to tired to do anything but obey. Mom pulled the covers back over her, then knelt and kissed her on the forehead.
"I'm proud of you, Sam," Mom said.
Sam smiled, and her eyes closed almost instantly.
Christmas morning came and went pretty much as any should have for a little girl like Sam. The moment she liked the most was giving the one real present she had to Mom, the same squishy package wrapped in plain brown paper that she'd carried home from Mrs. Miller's house earlier in the week.
When Mom opened the package and pulled out the afghan that Sam had learned to make on all those nights she'd spent visiting with Mrs. Miller, tears came to her eyes again.
Sam knew Mom was really happy, but she also knew that Mom (and probably lots of other people) really had heard.