The Christmas Box (2 page)

"Yes. You may contact these people,"

said Keri, handing her a scrawled-ou
t l ist of past landlords and employers.

She meticulously studied the list, the n l aid it down on the end table, seemingly impressed with the preparation.

She looked up and smiled.

"Very well. If your references ar
e s atisfactory, I think we may make a n a rrangement. I think it is best that w e i nitiate a forty-five-day trial period, a t t he end of which time we may ascertain if the situation is mutually favorable. Does that sound agreeable?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied.

"You may call me Mary. My name is
MaryAnne, but my friends call me Mary."

"Thank you, Mary."

"Now I've done all the talking. Have you any questions that I might answer?"

"We'd like to see the apartment," Keri said.

"Of course. The quarters are upstairs in the east wing. Steve will lead you up. They are unlocked. I think you will find that they have been tastefully furnished."

"We do have some furniture of our own," I said. "Is there some extra space where we could store it?"

"The doorway to the attic is at the end of the upstairs hall. Your things will be very convenient there," she replied.

I helped myself to a cracker from the silver tray. "Was that your son who answered the door?" I asked.

She took another sip of her tea. "No. I have no children. Steve is a n o ld friend of mine from across th e s treet. I hire him to help maintain th e h ome." She paused thoughtfully fo r a nother sip of tea and changed th e s ubject. "When will you be prepare d t o move in?"

"We need to give our landlord tw
o w eeks notice, but we could move i n a nytime," I said.

"Very good. It will be nice to hav
e s omeone in the house for the holidays."

Chapter
II THE
CHRISTMAS BOX

It is not my intent to launch upon a lengthy or sanctimonious dissertation on the social significance and impact of the lowly box, well deserved as it may be. But as a box plays a significant role in our story, please allow me the indulgence of digression. From the inlaid jade -
and-coral jewelry boxes of the Orient to the utilitarian salt boxes of the Pennsylvania Dutch, the allure of the box has transcended all cultural and geographical boundaries of the world. The cigar box, the snuff box, the cash box, jewelry boxes more ornate than the treasure they hold, the ice box, and the candle box. Trunks, long rectangular boxes covered with cowhide , stretched taut, and pounded wit h b rass studs to a wooden frame. Oa k b oxes, sterling boxes; to the deligh t o f the women, hat boxes and sho e b oxes; and to the delight of all enslaved by a sweet tooth, candy boxes.

The human life cycle no less tha
n e volves around the box; from th e o pen-topped box called a bassinet, t o t he pine box we call a coffin, the box i s o ur past and, just as assuredly, ou r f uture. It should not surprise us the n t hat the lowly box plays such a significant role in the first Christmas story.

For Christmas began in a humble
, hay-filled box of splintered wood. The Magi, wise men who had traveled fa r t o see the infant king, laid treasure -
filled boxes at the feet of that hol y c hild. And in the end, when He ha d r ansomed our sins with His blood, the Lord of Christmas was laid down in a b ox of stone. How fitting that each Christmas season brightly wrapped boxes skirt the pine boughs of Christmas trees around the world. And more fitting that I learned of Christmas through a Christmas Box.

We determined to settle into the home as soon as possible, so the following Saturday I borrowed a truck from work and my brother-in-law, Barry, the only relative living within two hundred miles, came to help us move. The two of us hauled things out to the truck, while Keri wrapped dishes in newspaper and packed them in boxes, and Jenna played contentedly in the front room, oblivious to the gradual disappearance of our belongings. We managed to load most of our things, which were no t g reat in number, into the truck. Th e r est of the boxes were piled into our Plymouth--a large pink-and-chrom e c oupe with graceful curves, majestic tail fins, and a grill resembling th e w ide, toothy grin of a Cheshir e c at. When we had finished clearin g o ut the apartment the four of u s s queezed into the cargo-laden vehicles and together drove off to our ne w r esidence in the Avenues. I parke d t he car out front and met Barry in th e d riveway.

"Just pull it around back," I shouted , guiding the truck with hand gestures.

He backed around to the rear of th
e h ouse, pulled the parking brake, an d h opped out.

"You're moving into a mansion?" h
e a sked enviously.

"Your blue-blooded sister found it," I replied.

I released the tailgate while Barry untied the straps securing the canvas tarpaulin we had used to cover the load.

"Here, give me a hand with this wicker chest. We'll take it straight up to the attic." Barry grabbed hold of the handle at one end of the chest and we lifted it down from the truck's bed.

"Only one person lives in this house?" he asked.

"Four now, counting the three of us," I replied.

"With all this room why doesn't her family just move in with her?"

"She doesn't have any family. Her husband died and she doesn't have any children."

Barry surveyed the ornate Victorian facade. "There's bound to be a lot of history in a place like this," he said thoughtfully.

We made our way up the stairs
, through the kitchen, down the hall , then up the attic steps. We set th e c hest down at the top of the landin g t o catch our breath.

"We'd better make some room u
p h ere before we bring the rest of th e t hings up," Barry suggested.

I agreed. "Let's clear a spac
e a gainst that wall so we can keep ou r t hings all in one place." We began th e c hore of rearranging the attic.

"I thought you said she didn't hav
e a ny children," Barry said.

"She doesn't," I replied.

"Why is there a cradle up her
e t hen?" Barry stood near a dust y d raped sheet revealing the form of a s hrouded cradle.

"Maybe she's storing it for someone," I suggested.

I lifted a small stack of boxes an
d s et them aside. "I haven't seen one o f t hese for a while," I said, displaying my own discovery.

"What is it?"

"A tie press. It must have been her husband's."

Barry hoisted a large portrait of a man with a handlebar mustache posing stoically for the picture. The portrait was set in an elaborate gold-leafed frame.

"Look," he said, "their banker." We laughed.

"Hello, look at this," I said, as I gently lifted what looked to be an heirloom. It was an ornate wooden box of burled walnut, intricately carved and highly polished. It was about ten inches wide, fourteen inches long, and a half foot deep, large enough for a sheet of stationery to lie flat inside. It had two large brass hinges crafted in the form of holly leaves. Two leather straps ran horizontally acros s t he lid and buckled securely into silver clasps on each side. The lid had a s killed and detailed etching of the Nativity. Barry walked over for a c loser look.

"I've never seen anything like it," I said.

"What is it?" Barry asked.

"A Christmas Box. For storing
Christmas things in. Cards, baubles , things like that." I shook it gently.

There was no rattle.

"How old do you think it is?" Barr
y a sked.

"Turn-of-the-century," I speculated.

"See the craftsmanship?"

While he took a closer look, I cas
t m y eyes around the room at the wor k r emaining to be done.

"We better get on with this," I
lamented. "I have a lot of work t o c atch up on tonight."

I set the box aside and we went back to organizing space for our things. It was dark outside by the time we finished unloading the truck. Keri had long finished unpacking the kitchen boxes and dinner was waiting for us on the table when we came down.

"Well, Sister, what do you think of your new home?" Barry asked.

"I could get used to all this room," Keri said "and the furniture."

"You should see some of the things up in the attic," I said.

"Mom, how will Santa find our new house?" Jenna asked anxiously.

"Oh, Santa's elves keep track of these things," she assured her.

"The trick will be how Santa's reindeer will land on the roof without impaling themselves," I joked.

Keri cast a sideways glance toward me.

"What's impaling?" asked Jenna.

"Never mind your dad, he's jus
t t easing."

Barry laughed. "Aren't you supposed to be making dinner for th e l ady?" he asked.

"We officially begin our arrangement on Monday. In fact, she is making dinner for us tomorrow. At leas t s he invited us to dine with her."

"Is that right?" I asked.

"She was up here just before th
e t wo of you came down."

"This should be interesting," I
decided.

We finished the meal and, afte
r t hanking Barry profusely for his help , we cleared away the dishes. Then I dove into a pile of receipts an d l edgers, while Keri put Jenna to bed.

"Can Daddy read me a story?" sh
e a sked.

"Not tonight, honey. Daddy has
a l ot of work to do."

"It doesn't have to be a long one,"

she pleaded.

"Not tonight, honey. Some othe
r t ime."

A disappointed child was tucke
d u nder the covers and went to slee p y earning for "some other time."

Chapter
III THE
BIBLE BOX

Sunday was no
t p roclaimed the "day of rest" by a mother with a family to ready for church, but such is the irony of piousness. Upon our return home at the conclusion of the day's "churching," we reveled in the discovery of a glorious new lifestyle. In our last apartment we had had such little space we found ourselves looking for ways to spend our Sunday afternoons outside the home. Now we defiantly spread our things, and ourselves, throughout our quarters. I napped in front of the drawing room fireplace while Keri read in the bedroom and Jenna played quietly in the nursery. What we may have los t i n family togetherness we more tha n m ade up for in sanity.

At quarter to six Keri woke me, an
d a fter washing up, we descended th e s tairs to Mary's dining room. I t s melled wonderfully of roast bee f a nd gravy and freshly baked rolls.

The dining room was spacious and
, in typical Victorian style, the floo r w as covered with a colorful Persia n r ug that stopped short of the walls , leaving a border of the polishe d h ardwood floor exposed. The roo m w as built around a large, rectangular , white-laced dining table. A Straus s c rystal chandelier hung from the ceiling directly above the center of th e t able, suspended above a vase o f f reshly cut flowers. The east wall ha d a n elaborate built-in china closet displaying the home's exquisite porcelain dinnerware. On the opposite wal l w as a fireplace, as ornately carved as the parlor fireplace, but of lighter wood. The mantel extended to the ceiling, and the firebox and hearth were tiled in marbled blue-and-white patterns. To either side of the fireplace were walnut side chairs with Gothic carved backs and tucked hair-cloth upholstery.

Mary met us at the doorway and thanked us graciously for joining her.

"I'm so glad that you could come!" she said.

"The pleasure is ours," I assured her. "You really shouldn't have gone to so much trouble," said Keri.

Mary was a hostess of the highest order and would not feel the affair worthwhile had she not gone to a lot of trouble.

"It was no trouble at all," she said instinctively.

The place settings were immaculate and beautiful, and the chin a p lates were trimmed in 24 karat gold.

"Please sit down," she urged
, motioning us to some chairs. We too k o ur seats and waited for her to join us.

"I always pray before I eat," sh
e s aid. "Would you please join me?"

We bowed our heads.

"Dear Lord, thank you for thi
s b ounty which we have during thi s b lessed Christmas season. Than k y ou for these new friends. Pleas e b less them in their needs and thei r d esires. Amen."

We lifted our heads.

"Thank you," I said.

Mary uncovered a woven basket o
f s teaming rolls, broke them apart, an d p laced one on each of our plates. Sh e t hen filled our goblets with water an d t he food-laden platters were passe d a round the table.

"So how are your quarters?" Mary asked. "Have you moved in all your things?"

"We have," Keri replied.