Lijah's Christmas
Christmas don't mean so much out here on the streets - the nights are longer and maybe colder. You might get the occasional treat from some kind soul out shopping for loved ones and feeling moved by the spirit but that don't happen often.
When I was a lot younger, I remember the season was so bright. We didn't have much but my Mom and Pop always made it special. They'd scrimp and save through the year and on Christmas morning, there would be a new scarf or gloves or maybe even a sweater. There would be toy soldiers or marbles or pencils for me and my brother.
Thirty years ago or so, there were Christmases with friends and my own family. My littlest one would sit on my knee and listen, with big eyes, to stories of St Nicholas and magic. I try not to think of those times too often but sometimes I recall the scenes and shed a tear, although my heart is warmed by those same memories.
Now, there's no family to share Christmas with but I got my friend, Charles, and we look out for each other when we can. No tree, no lights, no presents but, maybe, a hot meal, warm drink and even a blanket - if the supporters of the Mission are feeling generous.
This year Christmas feels a little brighter. One week a box of cans and bottles appeared in our alley – worth enough for each of us to have two days of coffee. Next week, two ponchos appeared outside Charles's crib. We were glad of those – you feel the cold more as you get older.
Tonight, Christmas Eve, Charles and me went down to the Mission and saw some old friends helping serve hot meals. When all the food was gone, they came and wished us "Merry Christmas" and we told them the same. Later, Charles and me found some dollars in our pockets. Don't know how they did it but we're grateful.
The spirit of St Nicholas is alive and well here in Bay City but it don't ride in on a sleigh pulled by reindeer. Instead, it screeches around the corner in a red and white Torino.