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"The Best Snowman in Town"
by
Joyce Skidmore
"Worthless," he thought. "I am completely
worthless." He wondered how he had let his life come
to this. He was well known in town, but not as he had dreamed
he would be. He was known as a drunk and a fool. He had
somehow let his drinking end his relationship with his family.
His wife had eventually had enough of him. That night he
came home drunk and had lipstick on his collar had done
it. The really sad thing was that he honestly didn't know
how it had gotten there. It would have been even more devastating
if he knew that someone had seen him passed out that night
and wanted to play a joke on him. She had left him, and
she had taken their daughter with him. How could he have
been so stupid as to throw away everything that was worth
anything in his life?
The tears running down his face brought him back to reality.
It was so cold outside tonight. The tears were almost freezing
on his face. He wished he had somewhere to sleep. He pulled
his ragged clothes tighter around him and headed towards
the homeless shelter. He shook his head to think that he
had once had a warm home, plenty to eat, and a family to
love and cherish.
* *
* * *
* * *
He saw the flier and thought it would be a good job: Santa
Clause wanted for the local department store. It paid really
well too. He might be able to afford a warm coat and a bottle
of whiskey. He decided he would do it. How hard could it
be to promise children that Santa would bring them something
their parents were funding? This might be a pretty good
Christmas after all.
* *
* * *
* * *
He called his wife that night and asked to
speak to Cynthia. She was going on five now and he knew
she would be so excited to see Christmas coming. He hadn't
seen her in almost two years. She probably wouldn't even
recognize him if he met her on the street. But he wasn't
allowed to talk to her. Dayna told him very firmly not to
call back unless he wanted to talk to the law. He hung up
and the tears began again. They wet his face and soaked
into his new coat.
He began his walk to the post office. The package under
his arm was getting heavy, but it was a weight he would
gladly bear. For the first time, he had spent his money
on something for someone else. He needed a drink, but the
thoughts of Cynthia getting his present made giving it up
worthwhile. He very carefully addressed the package and
dropped it in the outgoing mail with a heartfelt letter
nestled inside the dream playhouse. She would love it, he
was sure.
* *
* * *
* * *
"This suit is so itchy," he thought
as the line slowly shrank. It was getting close to quitting
time and he wished he could stop by the liquor store to
pick up a drink. He planned to spend the night by himself
and wallow in his misery. He had tried several times to
call Cynthia, but each time Dayna refused him. It was Christmas
Eve and he wasn't even allowed to wish his daughter a Merry
Christmas.
From the back of the line he saw someone enter with a wheel
chair. For a minute it took his breath. She was so much
like Cynthia. She was about six and had the same blonde
ringlets and blue eyes. Her face was so proud and beautiful.
His heart went out to her. Her aide pushed her through the
crowd to see Santa Clause.
His breath kept catching on the tears forming in his throat.
"Well, what does a beautiful little thing like you
want for Christmas?" he asked as he lifted her from
her chair. She was so small and so light. He carefully placed
her on his lap and held her close.
"It's a secret, Santa," she said, as she motioned
for him to bend his head to hear. "My parents are both
so busy that they don't have time to play with me. I see
the beautiful snow fall and I wish I could go outside and
play with the other children who live nearby. All I have
ever wanted to do is to build my own snowman, but it seems
impossible. I was hoping you could bring me one for Christmas,
if it's not too much trouble."
This time a tear escaped his eye. It was such a simple request
and so sincere. She did not want toys or anything from the
stores. She simply wanted her own snowman. "Just tell
me where you live and I will make sure one gets delivered."
"Oh, thank you, Santa," she said with gratitude
in her voice. She knew that Santa would keep his promise
and she would finally have her very own snowman.
* *
* * *
* * *
That night, the weather was even colder than
before. A blizzard was coming on, but still he had one more
request to fulfill. He fought the wind and biting snow as
he climbed the hill to reach the little girl's house.
He worked long and hard into the night, as the child slept
in her room. He really wanted a drink, but somehow, this
was so much more important right now. He made sure the snowballs
were perfectly round and the right size. He struggled to
place the head where it should go. It was so cold his hands
were starting to go numb. Finally, he stepped back to admire
his work. It was a great snowman, but something was missing.
He didn't have a hat or a scarf.
Somehow, he thought the snowman could make good use of his
things. He pulled off his new coat and wrapped his scarf
around his neck. For finishing touches, he added a pipe
and his own hat. By this time, the snow was blinding. He
began to walk away down the hill. Somehow, the snow didn't
seem to be so cold anymore.
* *
* * *
* * *
The next morning, there was nothing but
excitement in two different houses in town. The small child
in the wheelchair had the best snowman ever. It was by far
the best snowman in town. She couldn't stop smiling all
day and her family wondered how it got in their yard, but
the child knew that Santa had come through for her. She
would sit in her window for hours and stare; her yard seemed
so much more cheerful.
Across town, Cynthia received her playhouse. It was something
she had wanted for months. She began playing with it almost
immediately, and it occupied her for most of the day, her
other toys forgotten. When she discovered the letter nestled
inside, she gave it to her mother, who then read it to her.
My most precious Cynthia,
I know I have failed you.
I let the most unimportant thing in the world become number
one and my life and in the process, I pushed the most important
thing, you and your mother away. It was never her fault;
it was always mine. I hope someday, when you are older,
you will realize how much I love you and how sorry I am.
I am going to do better for myself. I am going to sober
up, and maybe someday, when I have earned your mother's
trust, maybe then can I hold you in my arms again. Please
know that you mean everything to me and I love you so much.
I am so very sorry. Please enjoy the present until I can
tell you myself.
The tears fell from Dayna's face. Perhaps she had been
too hard on him. The next time he called, she would let
him talk to Cynthia. Maybe he was changing after all.
Maybe there was hope for him.
* *
* * *
* * *
As the snow melted, they found his body. He never made
it home after he had left the hill that night. The cold
weather had been too much for his fragile body after he
removed his coat. He had been buried in the snow. But
the smile on his face told a story more than his entire
life had. He had died happy, because even though he may
not have been the best husband and father, he was able
to give one very lonely child the best snowman in town.
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