SUNDAY BLOG: A CHRISTMAS STORY FROM ME TO ALL BROTHERS AND SISTERS

Christmas Eve and Michael was sitting in front of the television pretending to watch the cartoon but unable to see the screen because of the tears which kept welling up in his eyes.

He felt so completely alone.  Suddenly his best friend who lived only next door seemed a complete stranger.  Mrs. Brown had been so nice when Dad asked her to look after him while he took Mummy away to the hospital.

They had all been nice to him, too nice in fact.  In their warm and colourful sitting room they fussed over him, asking him all the time whether he was all right assuring him that everything was just fine, that mum was only going away to get new little brother or sister for him.

But why did she have to choose the day before Christmas to go away and leave him all alone.  A tear escaped and trickled down his cheek and onto his shirt.  No one seemed to notice but he knew he’d be discovered sooner or later and the fuss would start all over again.

“Please let Daddy come back,” he said to himself over and over again,  Only three o’clock,  the cartoon was over and now an adventure film took its place.

How he wished he was at home sitting on Mummy’s knee, lying against her big tummy, feeling her arms around him.

Lately he often snuggled against her as they sat by the fire on cold afternoons, he loved to do little messages around the house for her because she seemed tired these days.

He knew and understood about the baby and had helped prepare a special room for it but now it was spoiling Christmas for everybody and he began to hate the little creature for upsetting his life.  Mummy had told him that they would all be happy together but why wasn’t she back by now so that he could start being happy again.  What was keeping her?  She’d been away since breakfast, 

Was she even going to come back?  Maybe she would love the new baby so much that he wouldn’t matter any more; maybe they would even forget to bring him home from Mrs Browns.

Suddenly he was very frightened.  A forlorn little figure sitting stiffly on the settee while all the fun and bustle of a family getting ready for Christmas went on all around him.

Teatime came but he couldn’t eat anything, he couldn’t swallow.   By now he was unable to hide the tears any longer,  As he sat at the table they splashed silently on to his plate when he bent forward to take a biscuit.  It taste like cardboard he thought but he ate it just to stop Mrs. Brown fussing any more,

He looked out of the window.  It was starting to snow just as mummy had said this morning when they were wrapping the last few presents for the family. Then she and dad hurried into the car and away after leaving him next door.    

His little heart ached and the pain was almost unbearable.  He jumped up from the table and ran to the bathroom.   He pulled the handle of the toilet to cover the noise of his sobbing, then he splashed his hot tired eyes with cold water.  It was no good.  It was impossible to disguise his unhappiness.

Just then the door bell sounded and he heard a warm familiar voice in the hall.  He flung open the door and ran to his father’s open arms.  It was good to feel them strong and tight around him.

Everyone was talking at once but mostly it was talk about a little girl baby having arrived.  He supposed this was the baby they had all be waiting for.  His father was accepting a cup of tea and sitting own by the fire.

Michael stood near the door watching the fuss going on all around.  Someone called him over and told him what a lucky boy he was to have a little sister for Christmas.  Already he hated the newcomer who had taken his mother away and had delighted his father so much that he seemed to have forgotten his son.  So when it was suggested that they went to see the new baby, Michael was very unimpressed by the idea.  He didn’t want to see her and so acknowledge the fact that he didn’t want anything to do with her.  He didn’t even want to see his mother.  She was a traitor who had turned her back on him and he didn’t care if she never came home.  Or did he?  As they walked up the steps of the hospital and through the big glass doors he felt an odd sensation of excitement and terror.  The smell of disinfectant made him feel sick and his new coat was hot and hairy round his neck.  Outside the door marked ’18’ a nurse bent down in front of him.  She smiled and told him that his little sister was waiting to see him and wasn’t she clever to arrive in time for Christmas.  She too told him how lucky he was before she walked off her stiff uniform rustling as she went.

What a stupid thing to say.  The door was open and suddenly there was his mother lying back on the pillow, her soft dark hair framing her face just as it had done this morning.  She was wearing the white nightie they had picked together one day when they had been shopping in town.  On the table sat her hairbrush, her comb, her makeup, all the familiar things of home, in fact as he looked at her he was amazed that nothing about her had really changed.

She was smiling and holding out her arms to him. Now he wanted to run to her but something held him back.  How could she really want him now that she had this new and obviously special baby?  He felt a hand push him gently forward as his father guided him toward the bed.

Once there he rushed to his mother and put his arms round her neck.  She lifted  him onto the bed beside her and rocked him backwards and forward holding him tight and whispering in his ear how she had missed him and how much she loved him.

Eventually she asked him if he would like to meet the new member of the family.  She bet over a canvas cot beside the bed and lifted out a small bundle of clothes.  As she unpeeled the bundle, a little hand shot up and waved to him.

As he peered closer, a tiny face came into view and a pair of blue eyes stared unblinkingly into his.  There was a smile and a sort of hiccup then the hand waved again.  Suddenly  there was a cry from the little mouth and Michael was immediately afraid that something was wrong.  He leaned over further and held the small hand.  The tiny fingers closed round his and squeezed hard.  The crying stopped and she smiled up at him again.  He smiled back.  She wasn’t exactly pretty, he thought, but she was quite interesting to look at. He looked up at his mother.  She was watching his every move and every reaction.  He supposed that she was waiting for him to tell her how pleased he was – how lucky he was – to have a little sister in time for Christmas,

But instead, she took his small worried face in her hands and spoke the words which made it the happiest Christmas of his small life.

“My dearest child,” she said gently “how lucky our new baby is to have a wonderful big brother like you.

Happy Christmas and a good New Year to all our brothers and sisters whether related or not.