Some times when you're lucky, they leave their curtains open, you can see into their houses. Some people have these amazing trees inside their houses, it reminds me about what my family used to do. Sometimes when I look around at Christmas I remember what it had been like, some of the other boys don't feel it as bad.
Around this time of year rich people go out to houses into the country. Mansions, more like it, single rooms in these places could fit the lodging house three times over. These places aren't used more then three months in a year and I could live like a king on a door knob of one of the thick wood doors, to keep out the cold, doors which replace the thinner doors of the summer. In the Lodging house the only thing we have is to huddle closer in the beds, most of the time two or three to a bed instead of the summer preference of a single bed to yourself.
But some families stay in their homes, mainly the rich, the rich enough to own a home that the poor waifs want to go into and warm their freezing hands by the fire, the warm orange flames licking logs. Logs that no one in that family has had to bring in, instead they have a servant bring them in, the girl will probably be dismissed for some charge I can not imagine. But rich people have their fancies, and they know a girl just off the boat will do just as good a job, only they won't ask as much as this girl now.
These families with the fires have Christmas trees. Not like the kind the rest of the boys talk about, their trees have candles and beautiful ornaments that are made of spun glass and sugar canes. The ones the boys talk about had only paper decorations and maybe a little bit of candy that some one has decided to forgo for the decorative purposes. These amazing trees by the warm fire places seem a dream come true to the boys who I stand with all of us gazing abashedly at the trees.
Under the trees are presents. Boxes, heaps of boxes with paper wrapping. Angels fly across the paper, along with detailed ribbons that have all been carefully wrapped by store clerks with worn fingers and slightly hunched backs, weary from a days work and hoping for the pitiful check that they will receive to give to their families and to spend it on Christmas cheer for their own children.
I shrug as a small child points us out, me and him holding hands lightly, forgetting that even though the spirit of Christmas has blinded us to society others have not changed so much. The Mother looks at us disapprovingly, she glares at us and I let his hand go gently, she glares down at us and closes her heavy drapes, blocking our view of the house and tree.
"Why'd she have to do that?" a boy asked softly.
"She could?"
"Aww come on its not like we've never had a curtain or a door shut on our faces." Dutchy smiled over at me reaching for my hand.
"Its different when its your door love" I say softly leading him away.
Disclaimer- Dun own it
Authors Notes- Woo! I actually wrote something. Plan of more of this strange occurrence! I got reviews on some old stuff, so its made me want to write (And finish old stuff!!)
Cards on- Candles A few years ago that was all I got for Christmas. Now I am using up the last of them!