December 24, 2005

Christmas Eve. Once again. At least this year I have a roof over my head, heat, warm blankets, running water. Last year's was spent living in the warehouse, freezing.

It's the 2nd one without her. I miss her more with every passing day.

Went out for a run tonight. The television only had Christmas specials on and the radio kept playing the same ten carols over and over and I just had to get out, go get some fresh air.

So I went running. Over rooftops, across town. Lights blinking in windows and balconies, parents dressing children in their Christmas clothes, friends and family arriving with suitcases from far off places.

I felt so lonely. I felt so out of touch with the human race. Suddenly I found myself not wanting solitude and quiet, but wanting to be with other people.

I started looking for somewhere to go that would take me. I found myself near Central Park and found a church that looked like it was gathering for services. I was about to move on, not being the religious type, when I noticed their sign. Something about a Universalist Society. Whispers of my past came up in my head... I think I remember something about Rosie going to Universalist stuff sometimes, saying how cool and open minded they are. How they don't have doctrine and they let you make up your own mind in religious and spiritual matters. I decided I'd give it a go.

I remember hiding my actuators and walking in the church. I'm sure they thought I was a bum or something, my hair being a mess, my face being unshaven... I wasn't planning on going anywhere important tonight... but they let me in anyway.

The church was warm and the sanctuary welcoming. I walked in, the service starting. More than a few people stared. I don't blame them. I'm sure I was a sight to see. Still... it hurts, being stared at.

The wooden pews hurt my back with the actuators. It was hard to get them comfortable... and quiet. I mean, so many people, so much to see. They were very curious. I tried to talk to them mentally, keep them quiet. I think I must have been using body language like I was talking, because I noticed more people looking at me funny. The people in the pew next to me scooted away from me.

I tried to ignore this fact and listen to the service. It was the standard Christmas story. Jesus was born, angels, wise guys, the whole shebang. You know it. And, whereas I never really put much stock this stuff before, it was nice to hear something familiar. It was nice to see that something in life hasn't changed.

The tentacles started to grow restless. They start poking their way out from under my coat. People start noticing. They start pointing, they start whispering, they start slowly moving away from me. Gee. Thanks everyone. I appreciate the ostracism.

And then, without warning, I'd have to say my own Christmas miracle occurred. In the middle of the Christmas story, a young woman in the congregation stood up and interrupted the reader. She wasn't that old, I'd have to say early 20s, if that. She wasn't anything special. Short, heavy set. Blue eyes, blond hair, wearing a red shirt with white snowflakes. You'd never notice her in a crowd. But she stood up, interrupted the service, and I will never forget her words.

"I can't believe you all! Look at you! Ever since that man arrived, people have done nothing but act like he has leprosy! You point, you stare, you whisper! How terrible! What's the Covenant we all believe in? What's the very first thing in it?" She picked up the hymnal from the pew and flipped to the back, looking for the exact source. "There it is!" She read from the book. "We, the member congregations of the Unitarian Universalist Association, covenant to affirm and promote: The inherent worth and dignity of every person!" She looked up from the book and continued in her speech. "EVERY person! I joined this religious community because I've never fit in, all my life. But you've made me feel not only welcome, but you've always treated me as a valuable member of this community! This man deserves nothing less!"

"But... but what about those... those THINGS coming from underneath his coat?" some lady beside me asked. I glared at her and tried to keep the tentacles down, but they raised up a little and hissed at her.

"What ABOUT those things coming from under his coat? Do they make him any less of a human being? I think not! He's still a person, no matter what type of robotics he may have with him!"

By this time, she had left her seat and came over beside me at the end of the pew. "I apologize, Sir, for the way my fellow congregationalists have treated you." She stuck out her hand at me, palm open to shake my own. I removed my glove and shook hers warmly. "I want to wish you the happiest of holidays, Sir, no matter what it may be you celebrate. I hope you will join us afterwards in the Social Hall for coffee and cookies and conversation."

"Thank you, Miss." I replied, my voice thick and nearly breaking as my eyes welled up tears. "The same to you." I think I saw a smile of pride and satisfaction on the faces of the ministers. Anyway, she sat down next to me and shared a hymnal with me. She had a lovely voice and an inquisitive nature. More than once I saw her staring at my actuators, not in fear, but in awe and curiosity.

When the time came for us all to shake hands in a sign of peace and friendship, more than one member shook my hand and apologized for their behavior. Her words seem to have rang true to them and to have affected them all.

Later, during the social, I came to learn that her name was Katie, that she was 23, and that she was a computer technician with an interest in all things technical. She asked me questions about myself and my actuators. When noone was around, I answered her truthfully. When people were around, we just made small talk. Had some interesting discussions about the nature of Truth and about the concept of Higher Powers. People who attended there seem to have some interesting discussions. I believe I may return. Perhaps the people will get to know me enough that someday the children may use the actuators as playground toys to climb on and swing from as I converse with the adults at the social. Perhaps.

However, I'm pretty sure I made a friend tonight. Katie invited me over to her apartment tomorrow for Christmas dinner. I think, after a trip to visit Rosie, I'll go. I think she would have wanted it.

And, as I look at the clock, I see that it's past 12, which makes it Christmas.

I never much believed in miracles; I've always been more of a Humanist type, which believes in the power of humans as the highest beings in the universe. They think that all the so-called "miracles" are just testaments to the wonders of the human heart, mind, and spirit. I think tonight I was proven, once again, the miracles that humans can create when we keep in mind what's important in life.

I sit here smiling, thinking of that Katie gal. Her kindness reminds me of Rosie. I wonder if she'll ever realize how much her simply being herself has touched the hearts of those around her.

Merry Christmas,
-OO.