I remember the Christmas I was seven or
maybe I was eight. It was so long ago that
I have forgotten the exact date.
But I have not forgotten the kindness of
strangers who showed me the love that came
in the form of a child in a manger.
I can still hear and see my brother singing,
"We Three Kings", while I felt in that
moment the brush of angel wings.

I was feeling unloved and all alone
living in an overcrowded children's home.
Separated because of the rules from my
brother and sister; allowed only to see them
the day I could have a visitor.
For the most part there was no joy in my life
that year. Often I would cry myself to sleep;
crying silent tears.

"What do you want for Christmas?" the House
Mother would ask, as together we performed one
of the daily tasks. Each time I would say an
aqua blue dress with silver threads and hoped
God would hear me when I prayed before
going to bed, even though I thought he probably
wouldn't because I was so bad. After all, if I
had been good I wouldn't be living in that home
without a mother or my dad.

The House Mother kept asking if there was
anything else. Perhaps a doll like the one I
had gently taken off the store shelf.
Only an aqua blue dress with silver threads I
would say, always the same answer day after day.
The older girls told me it was the custom for
the girls to get a dress which was new, but they
had lied to me so many times, I didn't think what
they were saying was true.

On Christmas morn Santa arrived with presents
for all...we all gathered together in the huge
hall. A rare occasion, the girls mingling with
the boys as everyone happily opened presents
and exclaimed over the toys. Santa handed me a
box with a beautiful doll. And I thought right
then and there I was going to bawl.

The older girls kept insisting that about
getting new dresses they had not lied,
but all I wanted to do was to run and hide so
I could cry. At that moment I didn't care if I
wasn't suppose to pout. The women brought Santa
more presents to give out. When he called my
name I took the box with dread knowing it would
not be the aqua blue dress with silver threads.

The older girls rushed to their rooms to exchange
hand-me-downs for new dresses before it was time to
take care of all of the guests. Slowly, I unwrapped
the box thinking I should be grateful for a dress
which was new even if that dress turned out to not
even be the color blue. With trembling hands I lifted
the tissue and shining back at me was the glimmer of
silver threads. I knew then and know now that love
is still alive...it is not dead.

Scarlet ribbons covered the bed...
In the form of an aqua blue dress with
silver threads.