The best Christmas gift ever

DARA E HEALY

IN A SMALL wooden house on a great big hill, a little girl sat on a tiny faded red bench.

Outside, the sun said farewell to the day, painting brilliant colours of red, orange and purple in the sky. Papa was almost finished sweeping up the dirt yard and picking up the clothes on the line made from old wire. Miss Jean passing on her way home from work waved to him. Children playing outside were being called in. They had wanted the little girl to come out and play, but she shook her head and refused to go outside.

It was the day before Christmas, but the little girl barely noticed the beautiful setting of the sun and all the activity around her; she was so sad. Dressed in her favourite dress with yellow and pink flowers and matching ribbons in her hair, she sat on her bench holding on to her favourite record, the Jackson 5 Christmas album.

She stared out the doorway at her grandfather finishing his chores. She wished she had something to play her record on, but one day when she came home from school, Papa told her they did not have her record player any more. He could not tell her he had sold it. When she burst into tears, he wiped her eyes and said quietly, “These things happen Billie.”

Her mother had named Billie after a famous jazz singer called Billie Holiday. Sometimes Billie would close her eyes and try to remember what her mother looked like. Nothing would come, except snippets of a Billie Holiday song her mother would sing, “Can't you hear a pitter-pat?/And that happy tune is your step/Life can be so sweet/On the sunny side of the street.”

Once again, tears ran down Billie’s face. Her granny never said goodbye when she went to live with the angels. As she sat on her bench, she thought about the last Christmas she saw granny, who kept calling her to help in the kitchen. But Billie pretended she could not hear granny because she was so enjoying a book that one of Papa’s friends had given her. Not long after, granny went to stay with the angels and the little girl blamed herself for not helping her grandmother when she needed.

Papa lit the fire under the kettle to make her some “granny tea” – tea with lots of milk and sugar – and make her favourite bread and cheese for dinner. Billie lay down on the ground and closed her eyes. After a time, she thought she saw granny walk through the door. She ran to granny and gave her a big hug.

“Granny, granny, how come you not with the angels? You come back?”

It seemed as though granny smiled and hugged Billie tight. Granny smelled of hair grease and seasoning just like Billie remembered. They talked and laughed like they used to.

“Sorry I didn’t help you in the kitchen granny. That’s why you went to stay with the angels?”

Granny smiled. “No silly Billie. It was just granny time.”

Then all of a sudden, Papa grabbed granny by the waist and they started to dance with each other like they used to. All Billie’s sadness disappeared. Papa and granny were dancing to one of her favourite songs by the Jackson 5. “Someday at Christmas there'll be no tears/When all men are equal and no man has fears/One shining moment one prayer away/From our world today/Someday all our dreams will come to be/Someday at Christmas time.”

“Billie! Billie!” Billie opened her eyes and looked up at Papa wondering why he was shouting. The little girl looked round for granny, but she was not there. But for the first time in a long time Billie was not sad. She awoke to see the little wooden hut completely transformed. Twinkling lights, a small Christmas tree and smiling neighbours carrying baskets filled with delicious food – ham, sorrel, black cake, pastelles – and all her little friends crowding round.

But the best part was what she could hear. Michael Jackson’s voice coming from a record player in the corner. Billie looked across at Papa, whose eyes twinkled with happiness. As she held him, she closed her eyes. She could smell her granny. And for the first time, she saw the face of her beautiful mother singing to her.

On Christmas Day, a little girl call Billie sat on her faded red bench and cried. But this time, it was tears of joy.

Dara E Healy is a performance artist, communications specialist and founder of the NGO, the Indigenous Creative Arts Network – ICAN

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"The best Christmas gift ever"

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