The
Dime That Made A Difference
A Christmas Short Story
by
Keith Lowry
Love/hate.
That’s a pretty good description of how I had come to feel about the
whole Christmas deal. Love/hate. I love the change in the
weather. Living in the south, it has to be pretty close to Christmas
before we really get cool weather. And I LOVE to see the change in
the trees. But then we have the wind, and now all the leaves are on
the ground, in my pond, on my deck, in my garage, blowing in my front
door. And I HATE constantly raking, mulching, blowing, bagging, and
hauling leaves. Do it today, and tomorrow the wind changes and blows
all your neighbor’s leaves smack into your garage and front door, and
now you get to do it all over again while your neighbor is watching the
game and grinning at you through the window. Love/Hate… See
what I mean?
I
LOVE the music this time of year. At church, on the radio, in the
mall, everywhere I go, I’m hearing some of my favorite music of the
whole year. And we only get to listen to it for a few weeks. I
mean, the day after Christmas, it’s too late. We’ve stopped
playing it. And the Christmas specials on TV. Wow. Did
you get to see that Harry Connick special? Oh man, the music!
Love it, love it, love it. If only I could hear it over the constant
ding-ding-ding-ding at the entrance to every store. The bell ringer
gauntlet. With those looks!
What do they do, hire people with the most pitiful hang-dog looks they can
find? Do they train
people to give that “You got extra change in your pocket and you don’t
need it as much as we do, man” look? I HATE that! “Ok, I
got a dime here… want that? Could I get a receipt please?
Could you stamp it please, so I can show it to the other 873 bell ringers
I’m going to pass today? Could this receipt please get me out of
the guilt gauntlet? Maybe a side door for those of us with an ‘I
gave today’ receipt?” A dime. Who can make a difference with a dime?
So
anyway, I’m shopping. I actually hate
this part. I’ve started doing most of my shopping online anymore.
I hate that trip near the mall. Notice I didn’t say “TO” the
mall, as that is now impossible unless you get in line the night before.
You’ll get a parking place sometime after 4am when the lot finally
begins to clear. Going near the mall is like driving into a car
whirlpool. Round and round and round we go, where we’ll stop,
nobody knows. Going near the mall is only for last minute stuff.
You know what I mean? The stuff you ordered that didn’t arrive on
time, or arrived in the wrong color or size. “Sure Uncle JimBob,
that little pink shirt is SUPPOSED to show your belly like that.
That’s how they’re wearing them these days.”
So,
like I said, I’m going near the mall today. I’ve been planning
it since yesterday, since I had to get in line last night. The guy
behind me was kind enough to honk his horn and wake me up when we started
moving about 3:15am, and by 5:30 I could actually see the mall, that is
after I used my blanket to wipe the fog off the inside of the windshield.
Soooo, shopping. LOVE
shopping. Oh yeah, this is wonderful. The longer I have to
stand in this line, the shorter my list gets. What I wouldn’t give
for one of those little scooter thingies. With an electric blanket
and a reclining seat. OOOhhh, boy. LOVE shopping.
Finally,
I’ve gathered up the few purchases I could wring from the sweaty hands
of other crazed shoppers, and I’m ready to go. What gene was
passed down to me that makes everyone in the store head to the checkout
lane at exactly .05 seconds before I do? And what kind of customer
service training are these clerks getting? “Note: If you see
large numbers of customers heading for the checkout lanes, this indicates
it is lunch break. Immediately take your break, so you won’t have
to anger any customers by taking your break during their transaction.”
So,
it’s still today, barely. I’m in line, and have been for several
days, it seems. These purchases are seeming less and less important.
Don’t we hate uncle JimBob anyway? Didn’t he get us that Elvis
anthology last year? And I think pink would look good on him,
don’t you? But, finally, I’m in line, so I hang onto my
purchases, and put my weight on my other dead leg for awhile. And
try to resist resting my packages on the head of the little munchkin in
line in front of me. She’s been quiet, hanging onto a little
stuffed animal of some kind, slowly moving along with the rest of us.
I haven’t really paid much attention to her, except for that one time
she asked me to hold the little stuffed thingy for her so she could go
potty. It was a little doggy. Sweaty, where she’d been
clutching it so tightly. Cute little thing. As was she, now
that I see her coming back to the line. All I’d really seen up to
now was the top of her little head, Christmas knit cap with a bouncy
little silver star on the top.
“Thank
you,” she said, as she reached up to take the little dog back.
“Sure”
I said. “He’s a cutie. Who are you buying him for?”
“My
Mom.”
“Oh,
a Christmas present for her?”
“Kinda,”
she said, and tucked her little chin down to her chest.
She
was quiet again for a minute, and, for some reason, wanting or needing to
carry on the conversation a little longer, I said, “Is he gonna have a
name?”
She
beamed up at me, nodding her head happily up and down with a great big
smile, “Yep, his name is Jasper” she said.
“Well,
that’s a nice puppy name. I’m sure your mom will like Jasper
just fine.”
All
I got at that was a quiet little “mmm hmmm,” and that little chin tuck
again.
The
lady behind me whispered “She’s such a cute little girl. She
yours?”
“No,”
I whispered back. “Just found her here in line in front of me.”
“I
hope her parents are close by,” she said.
I
said, “I haven’t seen anyone, and we’ve been in line here for, what,
two-three days?”
Now
I’m getting concerned a little bit, so I get down on one knee and say
“Hey, darlin’, where’s your family? Are they here with you?”
“Grandpa’s
waiting in the truck,” she said. “I was supposed to hurry, but
now I’m afraid he’ll be worried or mad. It’s taking too long,
but I gotta get Jasper for momma, I just gotta.”
“Will
she be surprised” I asked?
She
looked into my eyes for the longest time, like she was pondering that, and
then, in the tiniest little voice… “I hope so, mister…. I really
hope so.”
I
patted her on the head, and struggled back to my aching feet.
The
lady behind me said “What did she mean by that?”
“I
don’t know for sure” I said, “but she sure seems sad today, don’t
you think?”
When
I turned back around, a large, soft featured, older gentleman was coming
toward us. He looked at me with kind, but worried eyes, and
then I saw his eyes settle on the little darling in front of us.
Relief flooded his face, and he was on his knees, hugging her.
Trying not to interfere, but unable to avoid overhearing, I heard him say
“Hey punkin… I was about worried to death. You ok?”
That
little star bobbed as she nodded her head, and said “Yes Grandpa, it’s
just this line is taking a long time.”
“Well,
that’s fine, punkin, as long as you’re ok. You’re sure you
want to do this?”
Star
bob again… “Um hmmm. I’m sure.”
“You
don’t want me to help you with it?” he asked.
“No
sir. I gotta do this myself. Momma woulda wanted me to.”
“Ok
darlin’, you go on ahead. I’ll be right outside in the truck with
Grandma. Ok?”
“Yes
sir.”
As
he turned to leave, I caught his eye and he hesitated for just a moment.
I could tell he started to say something, but then he turned to head
toward the door.
“Sir?”
I said. He
turned toward me, and I said, “Would you like for me to make sure she
gets to your truck ok?”
“Would
you do that?” he asked.
“That’d sure put my mind at ease.” He looked me right in the
eye, and said, “She’s doin’ this for her momma. She wouldn’t
take ‘no’ for an answer. Wanted to do it all on her own.
She’s a strong little one, got a mind of her own. Said she gonna
do this, and there weren’t no turning her mind around on it.” He
looked at me again, and said, “She’s mighty precious to us, mister.”
I nodded, and he speared me with eyes that were not quite so soft this
time, and asked me directly, “Can I trust you?” Wow.
For some reason, that question hit me hard. Of course
he could trust me.
I
knelt down and looked the little sweetheart right in the eye, and asked
her, “Will you let me walk you out to your grandpa’s truck after
you’re done here?”
With
those big brown eyes, she looked at her grandpa, whose
eyes softened, and I saw just the tiniest hint of a nod and a twinkle, and
she turned back to me and said, “Yes sir, thank you sir.”
Standing
back up, I put out my hand and introduced myself to the older gentleman,
who shook my hand warmly and gave me his name, and thanked me. He
said, “My wife, she can’t get around much in these places anymore.
She’s in the truck, and I can’t leave her for very long. We’ve
got a long trip to make, and my little punkin there, her name is Emily,
she just had to do this. You’ll get her out to the old Dodge truck
right out that door there, I’ll be obliged, mister, mighty obliged.”
“She’ll
be fine” I said. I turned to the line of weary shoppers behind me,
all of whom were tuned in to this little exchange, and said, “Will
everyone please make sure I get little Emily here safely out to her
grandpa’s truck?”
He
turned to look at the shoppers, who were all nodding, or saying, “You
bet we will,”
or raising their hands or waving to us.
He
looked back at me, warm eyes saying more than words, nodded, said “Thank
you, sir. Thank you.” and headed out the door.
A
few more clerks were coming back in from their vacations to work the
registers now, and the line began to move a little faster. Little
Emily, clutching that little Jasper dog, shuffling along with the rest of
us.
Behind
me I kept hearing little whispers… “She’s so cute!” and “What a
little darling!” or “Sweet little thing, isn’t she?”
One
older gentleman, not too far behind us, nodded at me to get my attention,
and said, “We’ll be watchin’ you, you know…”
I
nodded back… “Good” I said. “Want to come out to the truck
with me?”
“I
just might,” he said. “I just might.”
Something
was bothering me. Some little something that had been said was
tickling my brain, wouldn’t let me alone. What was it? Who said
it? As we shuffled along, almost to the checkout lane now, I saw,
out of the corner of my eye, little Emily brush a tear from her eye.
As I looked closer, I saw her smiling as she did so. I knelt down
again, and asked, “You ok, honey?”
“Mmm
hmm,” she said. “I’m just so glad… Momma’s gonna be so
happy.”
I
asked again… “Is it a Christmas gift for your momma?”
Again,
as she tilted her head slightly, pondering my question, she replied,
“Sorta…”
I said, “Emily, darlin, what do you mean?”
She
took a deep breath, and started to tell me her story… “We used to have
this little puppy, named Jasper… and he looked just like this.”
And she held the little toy out to show me. “Mostly white, with this one
brown ear, and a spot on his back sorta like this.” Quiet now, I
just nodded, and let her go on. “Momma just loved little Jasper.
He was a sweetie. But he was always getting in trouble, know what I
mean?”
I
said, “Well, puppies are kinda like trouble wrapped up in a funny, cute
little package, aren’t they?”
“Yep,”
she said, “that’s Jasper, all right. Momma loved how Jasper
could make us all laugh, but she hated all the cleaning up she’d have to
do when Jasper got into something he wasn’t supposed to. Like the
time he climbed up into the pantry and ate all the crackers and knocked
the flour off onto the floor. Flour was everywhere! And then
when he jumped down, he rolled in it. When Momma
came in and found him, she hollered at him and scared him, and he ran off
to the back room and tried to hide in a pile of fresh clean laundry!
We all laughed so hard, it took us forever to get it all cleaned up.”
The
whole line was laughing and grinning with her now, and buoyed by the
friendly faces, she continued her story… “Momma did love that little
Jasper, though… And those were some good days, mister, I’ll tell
you that for sure. Those were some good days. That was right
before momma got sick. And after she came home from the hospital,
and she had to stay in bed, about the only thing that could make momma
laugh was for us to put little Jasper in the bed with her for a few
minutes. We couldn’t leave him there for long, ‘cause it would
wear her plumb out, you know?” I nodded, noting how much her
grandpa’s eyes had been passed down through her momma to Emily.
“And sometimes, if momma was tired, I’d take a little nap with her and
Jasper would snuggle down between us and keep us warm.” She
smiled, giggled a little, and leaned in like she was sharing a secret..
“Jasper snores!” I shared a big smile and a secret laugh with
her, and she prepared to carry on with her story, when we heard the young
man at the checkout lane say,
“Next?” and realized we were here.
I
said, “Do you need me to go with you?”
She
stood up straight, squared her shoulders, and said, “Nope, I can do
it.” And marched off to the checkout counter. As she left
us, most of us were lost in our own thoughts, marveling at the courage of
a tiny little girl, on an errand for her mother, determined not to let
anything stop her.
I
turned to the woman behind me and commented, “She’s something, isn’t
she?”
To which she replied, “What a sweetie. And brave, too, eh?”
About
that time, it dawned on me I was hearing a page over the loudspeaker,
“Manager to aisle 3 please… We need a manager to aisle 3.”
And
in the next half second I remembered, “That’s our aisle!” I
turned to look, and little Emily was still there, hands on her little
cheeks, crying. About the time the manager arrived, I did too, and
we both asked at the same time, “What’s the problem here?”
The
clerk explained, in a sort of stage whisper, “This little girl wants to
buy this toy, and she doesn’t have enough money, but I can’t get her
to leave!”
I
said, “Hold on, please, just a moment.” I kneeled down, and
gently took Emily’s hands in my own. Taking my wool scarf from my
neck, I gently dried her eyes, and asked, “Emily, honey, what’s
wrong?”
Through
little sniffles, but with a determination still showing through, she said,
“He said I don’t have enough money, but that
man said I did!” as she pointed toward the door.
“What
man, sweetie?” I asked. “Where?”
She
looked flustered for a minute, as if trying to decide how to describe who
she was referring to, and then, a light came on, and she exclaimed, “The
bell man, right outside!” I suffered through a brief acceleration
lull as my mind tried to catch up to what she meant, and then it hit me,
“The man ringing the bell? Taking up collections?” I asked.
She
nodded, and opened her little palm, in which she had been tightly holding
a sweaty dime. One dime. “He said he needed some money for
some poor people, so I put my money in his bucket. Then he asked me
‘Don’t you need some of that money for your shopping, little girl?’
And I remembered I did, and I was real sad, but he couldn’t get my money
back out of the bucket ‘cause it has a tiny little hole for the money to
go through, and it has a lock. So he gave me this dime from his
pocket, and he said it was all I needed. He winked at me and he promised
me it would be enough. But now he
says it’s not,” as she
pointed at the clerk. At this, she fell onto my shoulder and sobbed.
I
patted her on her shaking little back as I reached for my wallet, and
others were beating me to it. Almost everyone in the line handed
little Emily a one, or a five, I even saw a ten or two, and at least one
twenty. The surprise on her little face was genuine and
unforgettable… When everyone had patted her head or shoulder,
offered some word of encouragement, and finally made their way back into
the line, she looked up at me with the most precious expression of wonder
on her face, and whispered, “He was right!
It WAS enough, wasn’t
it!”
The
clerk and manager, still somewhat slack jawed over what they’d
witnessed, were mute, as I stood and said, “Will you let Emily buy her
gift, please?” The manager, trying to recover, said – “Oh, she
can just have it, don’t worry about it.”
But
at this, Emily said, “Please, mister. I’d like to buy it.”
So she bravely counted out what they asked for and handed over the little
bit of money, with much remaining in her little hands. She looked up
at me, and back at the line of people, who were caught up in the scene as
if watching a movie… “Can you please give this back to the nice
people?” she asked.
I
turned and, with my eyebrows arched in a question, said, “Anyone need a
refund?” Every head shook emphatically “No.”
I
turned back to Emily, as she received the package from the clerk, and
said, “Come on, honey. They said you can keep it.”
Her
mouth formed a shocked little “O”, as she looked at the line and then
shyly smiled and waved.
“Thank
you very much!” she mouthed, to lots of little waves, winks, nods, and
“Merry Christmas” greetings from the line.
As
I walked her toward the door, it suddenly came to me what I had heard
earlier that struck me as odd. It was something Emily had said when
she was talking to her grandpa about buying the puppy. She said
something like “she would’ve liked that”, or “Momma woulda wanted
that…”. A chill ran down my back as I looked down at that little
bobbing star on top of that little knit hat, and knew the answer in
advance to the question I was about to ask.
“Emily?”
She looked up at me, and I could see the look of accomplishment and pride
in her little eyes. She had done it. She got what she came for
and wanted so desperately. And she got it done with nothing but that
dime given to her by a stranger, and the faith of a little child.
“Yes
sir?” she answered, in the sweetest voice…
“Honey,
you didn’t get to tell me the rest of your story about why you’re
buying the little Jasper puppy for your mom…”
With
the briefest hesitation, she pulled down on my hand, to get me to lean
over closer to her. Into my ear, she whispered, “He’s going to
sleep with her, to keep her company, just like the real Jasper used to do,
to make her smile and keep her warm.”
“Ahh”
I said. “Honey, where is your momma, at home?”
A
brief little look of concern crossed her face now, as if she wasn’t sure
how to answer, and I thought to myself, “ahhh, no.” I said,
“Sweetie, did your momma get well after she came home from the
hospital?” Her head shook, ever so slightly, side to side.
And I said, “And are you taking little Jasper to her to keep her company
in heaven?” Another little head movement, this time up and down,
as one perfectly shaped little tear slid down her round, pink cheek.
Tears
were welling up in my own eyes as I picked her up and hugged her and began
the walk toward the door again. Unable to speak, I just started
humming to her, to comfort her, a little song I thought she might know,
“Jesus loves me this I know…” Soon I heard her tiny, sweet
voice joining mine as we hummed the tune together.
As
we pushed through the doors to the wintry blast of air outside, I saw her
grandpa’s truck idling just down the way to our left. As we passed
the bell ringer, Emily’s head popped up and she waved at him, and I
heard her say, “Thank you, mister, for the dime… you were right!
Look!” And she held her little Jasper up for him to see.
As
I looked at him, he winked at her, waved, and said “I knew it would be
enough darlin’, I just knew it would!” And then he winked at me, and I
mouthed a silent “thank you” to him.
When
we reached the truck, little Emily, tired from the long wait and the
emotional strain of what she’d been through, still clutching a wad of
money in one hand and little Jasper in the other, reached out to her
grandpa through his window as he rolled it down.
“Hey
there, punkin”, he said. “Whatcha got there?”
“It’s
Jasper, Grandpa.
Do you think Momma will know it’s him?”
“You bet she will, darlin. Yes ma’am, you bet she will. Looks just like him, to me.”
As
they got her settled and buckled in between them, I reached out to shake
her grandpa’s hand. Without saying anything, I think the question
in my eyes was obvious. As her grandma helped get her situated, he
leaned out the window and said, “We’re going to the funeral home right
now. ’Bout to close the casket, and Emily just couldn’t bear to
think of her momma closed up all by herself, with no one to keep her
company. I told her her momma would be with Jesus, but she said she
needed Jasper to keep her company, and she wouldn’t take no for an
answer. Thank you, mister. Thank you for helping her
out.” I nodded, still unable to speak… He said “Can I
ask you something?” I nodded. “I see she’s got a pile of
money in her hand. She went in there with all her savings, about
four dollars and some change. What happened?”
I
said, “She gave it away, to the bell ringer. He gave her back a
dime, and I’m pretty sure the Lord multiplied it for her.”
He
fixed me with his soft eyes, even kinder now, understanding filling his
face, and reached out to shake my hand as he rubbed the back of his other
hand across his eyes. Little Emily was bouncing up and down now,
saying, “C’mon, Grandpa! Let’s hurry! I can’t wait to
show her!” She waved at me and said “Thanks, mister. Thank
you for your help.” I just waved back, at a loss for words, as her
grandpa nodded at me and slowly put the truck in gear and headed away.
As
he passed me, little Emily was straining to turn and keep me in view,
still waving, holding little Jasper up and waving him, too, and I found
myself jogging along beside the truck, waving back at her, yelling, “We
love you, Emily… Merry Christmas!”
Finally
they pulled out of sight, and I stopped running. I was standing
right beside the bell ringer now, catching my breath. As I turned to
look at him, I swear I saw a twinkle in his eyes, as he said, “Merry
Christmas, mister… got any change?” And I found out I did, after
all.
How
about you? Got a dime?
Merry
Christmas to all…
Keith
Lowry,
President
Keith
Lowry Seminars, Inc.
“Who
knew learning could be this much fun”
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467-7797
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