Joy to the World
Christmas 1931
A bang at the front door made Steve jump, and he turned around to see Bucky come in, breathless and bundled up against the cold. The temperature had plunged in the last week, almost to 0 last night, and Steve wished it would snow, but so far no luck.
"Steve!" Bucky blurted. He wrenched off his cap and began twisting it in his hands. "What are we gonna do? If we stay, we'll freeze. No one's going to be able to fix it 'til after Christmas, Dad said. And Mother said she didn't want to die for pride and–" His face crumpled and he turned away.
Sarah Rogers came out of her room, still pulling on a sweater. "Good heavens, Bucky! What on earth is the matter?"
In a few minutes the whole story came out. The boiler in the Barnes' apartment building had blown early that morning. Fortunately, no one was hurt, but heat would not be restored until the day after Christmas. Mr. Barnes did not really want to ask for help and Bucky's mom disagreed. Things had disintegrated into a screaming match and Bucky had bolted.
"And it's already really cold in there, we've got to find a place to stay. And- and tomorrow's Christmas." Bucky choked again and had to go pour himself a glass of water in the kitchen.
Mrs. Rogers was moving suddenly, shoving her feet into her husband's old winter boots, pulling her coat on, calling, "Stay here, boys," as she disappeared out the door.
Steve gave a sigh of relief. "Don't worry, Buck," he said, giving his friend's shoulder a little shake. "It'll be okay."
The room was dark, when Steve stirred and opened his eyes. He wondered what had woken him. Bucky was asleep on his shoulder, and the girls slept in a heap on their own bed of couch cushions. Bucky's parents had the big bed, Steve's mother had his cot, and Aunt Margarita was spending the night at Mrs. O'Rourke's.
Steve closed his eyes, then heard an odd squeaking sort of sound, quickly stifled. It came again. Bucky stirred, lay still for a moment, both of them listening.
A gasping noise, and Bucky sat up. "Becca?" he whispered.
"Go… away," she managed to say, before she gave up, buried her head in her pillow, and cried. By some miracle the twins did not wake, even when Becca crawled over to huddle against Bucky's other side.
Maybe they all cried some on that Christmas Eve, or maybe it was already Christmas Day; Steve didn't really care. He would give almost anything to make the world right again for Buck and Rebecca and everyone else. Why did people have to lose their jobs and their money and start fighting and cry at Christmas? What about peace and goodwill and miracles? What about the angels and the Baby and–?
And that was when Steve knew what they had to do.
Their surprise was saved until the evening, after supper; it took most of the day to prepare anyway. The day was actually a pretty happy one, with at least one small present for everybody under the little tree, decorated with the Barnes' Christmas lights, and the completely unexpected arrival of a basket on the doorstep, that contained a whole chicken, a small sack of potatoes, candies and a few other foodstuffs. Nobody ever did find out where it came from.
At dinner Steve even noticed Mr. Barnes holding his wife's hand under the table. But he never laughed, or even really smiled.
As they finished dessert—his mother's old Irish Christmas cake which they had every year without fail—Bucky stood up, and cleared his throat. "Ah, we have a surprise for you all, a special Christmas present really, but we have to get it ready, so if you would all wait in here, and then come into the living room when we are ready, that would be wonderful."
The adults all agreed, though Aunt Margarita gave Buck the eagle eye. Sarah Rogers caught her son's eye and grinned at him.
When they were ready, Bucky invited the grown-ups to take seats on the couch. Steve felt his heart rate pick up as he stood just inside the bedroom door, waiting for his cue. Annie gripped his hand tightly. Peeping through the crack he could see Bucky, holding the Bible, standing opposite the couch. His friend took a deep breath and began to read.
"And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from… President Hoover, that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when… Roosevelt was governor of New York.)" Someone chuckled, and Steve was pretty sure it was his mother who went, "Aha."
When Bucky got to the line, "And Joseph also went up from… New Jersey, out of the city of Newark…" Steve and Annie made their appearance. Dressed in their oldest clothes, Annie had a pillow stuffed down the front of her dress. As Bucky kept going: "…unto the city of David which is called… Brooklyn…" Steve gave the watchers a quick glance. Mr. Barnes was definitely smiling. Even Aunt Margarita wasn't scolding at this not quite Biblical retelling of the Christmas story.
Joseph and Mary travelled down the middle of the room and back, before settling against the bookcases to Bucky's right.
"And she brought forth her first firstborn son, (Annie pulled out the pillow and took her baby doll out from where it was hidden in a blanket) and wrapped him in old rags, and laid him in… an old tin washtub, in an alley, because there was no room for them in any of the hotels."
The adults laughed softly at the 'old tin washtub', but Steve could see them getting absorbed in the story. He slipped away from Annie's side and joined Lizbet in the middle of the floor, huddling under a blanket.
"And there were in the same country hoboes abiding in… the Hooverville in Central Park, keeping watch over their… children by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them…"
This was Becca's big moment. She appeared in the bedroom doorway, wearing her cleanest, prettiest, whitest nightgown, with a sash of gold tissue paper around her waist. She had written out on her own paper the angel's words and she recited them without flaw, her voice somehow strong and sweet at the same time. This time no one laughed when she said, "Ye shall find the babe wrapped in rags and lying in an old tin washtub in an alley."
When they got to the multitude of angels part, all of the kids joined in together, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men!"
No, it was not his imagination, Mr. Barnes was smiling.
"…the hoboes said one to another, 'Let us now go even unto… Brooklyn, and see this thing which is come to pass…"
Steve ducked behind Bucky to return to his position as Joseph.
"And they came with haste, and found Mary and Joseph, and the babe lying in an old tin washtub in an alley."
Lizbet scooted close and Becca stood over them, smiling, as Bucky finished reading. "And the hoboes returned to Hooverville, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen as it was told unto them."
There was a long hushed silence, after Bucky closed the Bible and held it against his chest. Steve could hear someone sniffing back tears, and he hated to break the moment, but hopefully this would build it instead. He began to sing, softly, and after the first note everyone else joined in.
Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin, mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
As they sang, Steve risked a glance at Mr. Barnes. He was actually not singing. Instead he sat with a smile on his lips and tears on his cheeks and light glowing all over his face as he looked at his children.
Something in Steve's chest swelled until it hurt and he looked away, meeting his mother's gaze. She was looking at him in the exact same way, and he remembered that Joseph was his dad. So he went over and curled up in her lap, and she wrapped her arms around him and held him close.
July 4, 1932
Standing on the boardwalk, an evening breeze whipping his hair, watching the fireworks shower over the bay, Steve linked arms with his mother, and felt her smile.
On his other side, Bucky rested his arms on the railing, so their shoulders touched. He didn't say anything though. Nobody did, except for some scattered 'ohh's and 'ahh's. It was one of the best shows Steve had ever seen, and he'd been coming to Coney Island for his birthday for as long as he could remember.
Blue, red, green, gold; waterfalls, flowers, stars, butterflies.
He felt someone touch his shoulder, and glanced over. Mr. Barnes had put his arm around Bucky's shoulders and rested his hand on Steve's.
Something tightened in his chest, but not painfully. He just sort of knew without looking that Mrs. Barnes was holding her husband's hand and Annie was holding hers and Lizbet was holding hers and Rebecca was holding hers… and they were family.
He looked up to the sparkling sky and made one little wish: that somewhere, somehow, his father could see this too.
Author's notes: Absolutely no disrespect is meant to the Bible (KJV), but I think retelling Jesus's birth in the sense of 'if He had come in my world' is very powerful, because of course the truth is: He did come for everyone, back then and now. And joy to the world is for every day.