A Melancholy Christmas: Part 2 | Laveda D. Rockford

 

 

A Melancholy Christmas: Part 2

Dorthea was working in the line at the soup kitchen when she heard a commotion across the room. A woman with five children was pleading for a place to stay the night. Dorthea could not hear the whole story but knew the woman was desperate. The woman’s five children looked hungered and tired. Dorthea felt a nudge in her heart but serving food in the line kept her busy.

At the end of Dorthea’s shift, she inquired about the woman, Lucinda. The charity that ran the soup kitchen had found lodging for her and her children, but their story was sad. Her children would have no Christmas this year and the soup kitchen did not have the extra funds to give them Christmas gifts. Lodging took all the extra cash they could acquire for her.

Dorthea thought about that little family on the way home. She was still not feeling well, but she thought, at least that little family was together. She arrived home, opened the door, and saw a dark and lonely house. Her shoes, scooting across the floor, sounded the same as it did that morning. Making a cup of tea and eating toast in milk was all she had to eat. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, at least Jake had called before she went grocery shopping for the Christmas meal. She thought of all the food wasted if she had purchased a turkey. After that, she did not want to go shopping. She was down to a few slices of bread, a couple of eggs, a little milk, coffee, and tea. That would be enough for her to get through the holiday. She did not want to talk to anyone.

The phone did not ring all evening, and her aches and pains grew stronger after the sun disappeared behind the trees saying good night to her and saying hello to someone else across the globe. She sighed looking at nothing at all and pushed herself out of the chair getting ready for bed, thinking, is this all that I have to look forward to? Is this it, Lord? Sighing again, she walked into her room and slid into bed, laying there looking out into nothing, thinking.

Her prayer that evening ended with, “If this is all that my life will consist of, Lord, please take me home. I want to be with you. Have mercy on this old woman.”

Her eyes began to look tired as her breathing slowed. Then quiet…, Then, a light began to show from what she thought was in her room. The light grew brighter, and she opened her eyes to inquire what it was, but she was no longer in her bed.

The area where she stood was surrounded in beauty, but not the beauty that you can describe. It was not a solid beauty, something that you can touch, it was a surrounding beauty of colors that seemed to shimmer and echo across the universe. As she looked up, someone or something started coming into focus, she saw hands beckoning to her. The hands of one who knew sorrow, she looked and saw the scars, and her eyes filled with tears. Then she looked up into eyes that showed more compassion than any that she had seen before. She ran to Him and fell into His arms, crying.

© 2021 Laveda D. Rockford

To be continued…

 

Follow along and read this short story about Dorthea and A Melancholy Christmas.

A Melancholy Christmas is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.