The Secret of the Christmas Rose

The Christmas Rose

Christopher was a happy, typical nine-year-old boy who had just started to attend his new public school a few months ago, his third in as many years, after his Marine mom was posted to her new duty station in North Carolina. Like his new classmates in his third-grade class, he was excited about their upcoming Christmas Break which was just around the corner.

All of the children in his class were chatting excitedly about what they wanted to receive from “Santa Claus” this Christmas. Their teacher helped them decorate their classroom with holiday images cut out of magazines, including photos of the digital games, drones, computers, bicycles, toys and the latest smartphones, that they desperately wanted to receive. Christopher always tried to cheerfully participate in these activities with his classmates, but he had a secret that they, nor his teacher, knew anything about. A secret that he kept to himself because he was afraid he would be made fun of if anyone found it out.

You see, Christopher was different from the rest of his classmates in several ways. One difference was that most of his classmates had families that were well off, and many you might even call rich. As Christopher stepped off the bus, he could see many of their parents dropping their kids off in their big new cars and SUVs, while wearing the coolest clothes, and talking on the latest smartphones. While the children waited for the bell to ring before school, they formed little groups of their special “BFFs” and compared their upcoming ski trips, or Caribbean resort destinations that their parents would be taking them to over Christmas break.

Because Christopher was the “new boy” in class, most of the kids never bothered to talk to him or include him in their group of friends and activities. Why? Because he was different than they were. His clothes always looked rather worn and mismatched, where theirs always looked “put together”. His clothes didn’t seem to fit him well and were out of fashion, while his classmates always looked like they had walked out of the pages of an “Abercrombie & Fitch” catalog, but where Christopher looked more like he walked out of the pages of an old “Field & Stream” magazine. But they all didn’t feel that way. A few kids found him to be very bright, funny, and personable, with a quick wit to boot. But what they liked best about him was that he seemed to genuinely care about what they had to say as he listened intently to them, never cutting them off or making fun of them. These qualities, among others, soon made Christopher a small circle of devoted friends, that he felt comfortable hanging out and sharing his thoughts with.

Another difference was that unlike all of his new classmates with moms and dads, his father, a First-Sergeant in the Marines, was killed while serving in Iraq just about two years ago this Christmas, leaving him and his mom on their own.  While she was the best mom in the world to him, and he loved her more than anything, he knew that life was hard on her as she tried to be both mother and father to him, and that it was difficult for her to buy him much at all for Christmas, as her Corporal’s pay barely allowed any “extras”.

As Christmas break finally approached, the level of excitement of the class reached such a fever pitch, that lessons, books and studying were pretty much ignored because everybody was so focused on Christmas and what they planned to do. But mostly, they were thinking more about receiving gifts, rather than giving them, as well as traveling and having fun with their families and friends. Amidst all of the excitement shared by the kids and teachers, it seemed to Christopher that there was something missing, but being new, he was too shy to say anything about it. He remembered past Christmases when he was just a little boy, staying with his grandparents on their farm while his parents were deployed, and the wonderful stories they told about a star, shepherds, animals, wise-men, and a baby in the manger. He couldn’t remember exactly how the stories went, but he recalled how special and warm he felt while listening to his Grandpa and Grandma tell them, as he sat on his small, three-legged stool in front of the fireplace of their cabin in the country.

At school, there was no mention of the Bible stories about the real reason for Christmas that he learned at his grandparents, as they were judged by their school board to be too controversial, possibly offending or making the students that weren’t Christians, uncomfortable. They weren’t taught about the history of Christmas, or about the star, or the wise-men’s journey on their camels, nor even the baby in the manger, even though many of their teachers wanted to. Neither were they allowed to tape any images of the First Christmas Story on the walls and doors alongside the images of the gifts his friends wished for. This left Christopher, and a few of his friends, wondering why they were celebrating “Christmas”, but were not even allowed to discuss the real reason for the “holiday” in class. But Christopher knew something many of his classmates didn’t.

A couple of days before school was to let out, one of Christopher’s new friends asked him where he was going to spend Christmas. At first Christopher hesitated and stammered a bit, but finally he told them that he was not going anywhere, but would be staying in the small apartment his mom had rented. “Bummer Dude!”, his friend Joseph said. “That’s awful!”, Molly interjected. “Won’t you be lonely with just your mom?” “Heck no!”, Christopher replied. “We’re great together, and this year she’ll actually be with me and not in Iraq like she was last Christmas”. “This is going to be a super Christmas!”, he added.

“What do you think you are going to get for Christmas, Christopher?” Molly asked. Again, Christopher murmured almost in a whisper, “Oh, something I guess. I don’t need much.”, leaving unsaid the fact that his mom can’t afford very much on her Corporal’s pay, “but whatever it is, it’ll be cool with me!”. “What are you going to give your mom?”, Molly continued. “I don’t know,” he said, “I don’t have much money, but I know I’ll find the perfect gift for her! Something always seems to turn up at the last minute”, he added.

Well, Christmas Break finally came, and Christopher said good-bye to his new friends as they climbed in their parent’s cars and left school for home and the holidays. Christopher felt cheerful as he walked the two miles to he and his mom’s small apartment. When he got home, he found a note saying that his mom had volunteered to work the night shift on base over the holidays so a friend could go home for Christmas with his family, as well as to earn a little extra money before Christmas. Without his dad’s pay, money was always tight it seemed, but they were getting by on their own, even if it was very close most months. Christopher knew how hard his mother worked to make ends meet, so he never added to her stress by asking for things she couldn’t afford. It would be the same this Christmas.

“What can I get mom for Christmas?”, Christopher thought to himself. Unable to find any part-time jobs for himself since they arrived in town, Christopher had almost no money. He dug in his jean’s pockets, but all he had was the dollar his mom gave him for his lunch money, and 43 cents. “What can you buy for $1.43?”, he murmured. “Oh well, I’ll come up with something, I’m sure!”. “I can’t let mom down by not having a gift for her for Christmas”.

At last, Christmas Eve came! Christopher was excited and full of Christmas Spirit as he cleaned and decorated their small apartment while his mom was on duty at the base. He pulled down a small and worn cardboard box from the hall closet, that contained all of the Christmas ornaments and decorations they were able to carry from their previous post, which weren’t many. While they were few and somewhat old and worn, they were precious to him as each ornament and item were things he knew his mom and dad had collected at whatever duty station around the world they were assigned to when Christmas time came around. Just looking at them and handling them, brought a smile to his face! This small box and its contents, was the only thing that reminded him of what it means to be a family and to be together at Christmas.

His mom had to work the graveyard shift at the base on Christmas Eve, so while he was home alone, he busied himself making their modest apartment look as festive and “Christmassy” as his limited selection of decorations would permit. Once he had finished decorating, he thought he would walk downtown and see what small gift he could buy for his mother with his meager bankroll.

The weather had been unseasonably warm for late-December in their new southern town, so he had resigned himself to the fact that there wouldn’t be the “White Christmas” he became used to when visiting his grandparents farm. As he walked the mile or so to the center of the small town that afternoon, and the few stores that might be open on Christmas Eve, he passed by an old, ramshackle house that looked as if it had seen a few too many Christmases. However, in the overgrown yard, by the sagging front porch, he caught a glimpse of something yellow which caught his eye. He decided to find out what this small patch of yellow was amid the broom straw and dried brown weeds that surrounded the house. As he got closer, he saw something that he never would have expected to find in late December. A rose bush, full of huge and beautiful yellow roses! In fact, these were the most beautiful and the most perfect roses he had ever seen! “Wow!”, he yelled out. “Yellow is mom’s favorite color!”. “She’d love to have these!”. Christopher looked around to see if anyone was around, so he could ask if he could have a few of these roses for his mom. It was obvious that the old home was abandoned, and no one would know if he picked a few of them, so he decided he would. Then it occurred to him that he didn’t have anything he could put the roses in so they would be as fresh and as perfect as they were now, when his mom got off duty on Christmas morning tomorrow. He looked around for an old can or something that would hold water so he could take them home with him, but he couldn’t find anything around that old homestead that didn’t already have too many holes in it.

“OK, I’ll go into town to see if I can find something”, he said to himself. When he finally got to town and its small business district on Main Street, the only store open was a small, family-owned variety store, better known as “Taylor’s Five & Dime store”. By now, it was getting dark, as the sun sets early this time of year, and Mr. Taylor was just locking the front door of his small store. “Sir!”, Christopher shouted as he ran toward the man, “Can you wait just a minute so I can buy something to hold flowers for my mother?”. The old man took his pipe out of his mouth and said with a scowl; “Son, don’t you know this is Christmas Eve and my family is waiting for me to get home so we can eat our dinner?”. “Yes sir, I know!” Christopher said breathlessly, “but if I can’t find something right away, I won’t have a present for my mother tomorrow”. Please sir?”, he implored. “Alright son”, he said back, “come in and let’s see if we’ve got what you want.”

Christopher excitedly blurted out, “I found a beautiful rose bush full of yellow roses at that old abandoned house about a half mile up the road from here”, he said, “and they’re my mother’s favorite flower and color!” “I need a vase or something else I can put them in.” “Do you have something…cheap?” “Let’s see young man”, as he walked over to a bin at the back of the store. “How about this?”, he said, holding up a tall, slender and delicate rose-colored, etched glass vase. “Yes!”, “that’s perfect”, Christopher exclaimed. “How much?” “Oh, this is one of our best glass vases son, but it’s a steal at only $2.50.”, Mr. Taylor said. Christopher’s face fell in disappointment. At the last moment on Christmas Eve, he had found the perfect Christmas gift for his mother, but he came up a little more than a dollar shy of being able to buy it for his mother. “Sir”, “I only have $1.43”. “Do you have something like it but cheaper?”

“No son, I’m afraid this is about the last vase I have in stock. It’ll have to do if you need it today”, he said. Then the old man held up the vase toward the single bare bulb hanging down from the stamped metal ceiling of the old store, like he was examining a precious crystal vase. “Umm”, this vase has a small chip in its base.”, he said. “Of course, I couldn’t ask full price for a flawed piece like this.” “So I tell you what I’ll do, if you give me your dollar, we’ll call it even!”, Mr. Taylor told him. “Great!” Christopher cried. “Here you go sir!”, taking the wadded bill from his pocket. “Thank you so much for helping me out on this! My mother will just love it!”. “Oh! …and Merry Christmas Sir!” he said as he began to run out of the store, and go back to the old house. “My pleasure son!”, “…and by the way, that rose bush you found was planted by my mother at the house I grew up in, and they were her favorite flowers too!”, Mr. Taylor said as his eyes began to moisten. “Take all you want as they are the last one’s until next summer”. “Merry Christmas to you and your mother, son, …and God Bless!”.

The next morning, Christmas morning, Christopher met his mother at the door at six a.m. as she wearily, but happily hugged her son and wished him a Merry Christmas. “Merry Christmas son!”, she said. “I’m afraid I don’t have much for you this year. You know money’s tight and I don’t get paid until the first of the month.” “Don’t worry about it mom!”. “I don’t need anything but you!” “Here’s your present, Mom!”, he said, as he pulled the glass vase full of perfect yellow roses from behind his back to give to her. At once, tears welled up in his mom’s eyes, and she hugged her son so tight that he thought she would crush him and the roses. “Merry Christmas, son!”. “Merry Christmas, mom!”. Then both said in unison, “I love you!”.

“It was the best Christmas ever!”, Christopher told his friends when school started again. “Why?”, one of them asked. “Because I got two gifts this Christmas”, Christopher said, “..and they both were sent by God!”

EPILOGUE:

“That Christmas was a long time ago”, Christopher told his grandson. “But you know, that old rose bush provided my mother’s most precious Christmas presents for many years before she passed away.” “I’m glad I was able to buy the old Taylor home where your grandmother, mother, and I have lived to celebrate so many Christmases, and hopefully, where you and your family will celebrate the birth of the baby Jesus too. But you have to promise me one thing son.” “What’s that granddad?”, Christopher replied. “That you’ll never forget the secret of the “Christmas Rose” which is that the best gifts in life don’t come from things you buy, but from the sharing of God’s love that was embodied in those roses, and also how He showed His love for the world by sharing His only Son at Christmas”.

God Bless You and Your Family this Christmas!

P.S. – The above photo of the yellow roses on the window sill of our home was taken by me on 12/10/2016, after cutting them that day for my precious wife Nancy. I planted the rose bush in our garden from which they came, for Nancy’s mother, “Miss Thelma”, some ten years prior. This rose bush has produced beautiful yellow roses each year, and many times even on Christmas day or later. These roses were the inspiration for this story, and have been an annual reminder of Miss Thelma, whom I loved as a second mother. This year, as it bloomed yet again this Christmas, it brings me special loving memories of my wife Nancy, who is now living with Miss Thelma in heaven. “The Secret of the Christmas Rose” is dedicated with all of my love to both of my “Angels” – WFD

© Walter Franklin Davis – December 25, 2017