A parable about loss, time, and chance
The skating rink on the corner of Prospect and Main was bustling with families, couples, and students from the nearby college decked out in Christmas sweaters and Santa hats. A group of carolers dressed like elves sang “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” next to the coffee and bagel cart on the corner. Shoppers hurried in and out of the Macy’s store, juggling their boxes and bags of gifts, hurrying home to do their wrapping. It was the day before Christmas and the city was alive with holiday cheer.
A minivan with a tree tied to the top made its way through the stop light, and onto the freeway. The family in the car – husband, wife, 10-year-old son, and 2-year-old daughter were headed back to their beautifully decorated home in the suburbs. They had waited until the last minute to get their tree at the farmers market this year instead of cutting down their own. Life had taken an unexpected turn when the husband was laid off from work. His wife had not taken the news well and had fallen into anxiety and depression over the past three weeks since receiving the news. They would both try to pull themselves together for Christmas, for the sake of the kids. Their gifts would include the things on their lists as well as a surprise – a puppy.
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On that same corner sat a homeless man, dressed in patched jeans and carrying a cardboard sign that read: In Crisis. Anything Helps. The man sat on the bench by the bus stop, watching the families skate, and listening to the sound of the carolers under the softly lit pine trees. The sun had begun to set, and a damp chill darkened his mood. “These damn shoes,” he complained. The hole near the toe of his black boot had grown bigger since yesterday, and his socks were now wet. Tonight, he would make his way back to the shelter in hopes of a meal of something other than chicken soup. Maybe turkey or ham for the holiday? He was hoping for a gift from a stranger to buy a Christmas gift for his daughter. Was it too much to hope he might see her tomorrow? His ex-wife had recently remarried and started a blended family with a man who seemed to have done quite well for himself as a banker. The homeless man thought back on the last few years and the countless times he had broken the trust of his first love. Addiction had ruined his chances of a normal relationship. It would be a miracle if she granted him even an hour with his daughter.
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High above the city square, in the 12-story building next to Macy’s, was an apartment where 75-year-old widow, Joan, lived with her cat, Juju. She didn’t have many decorations, just a one-foot fake Christmas tree with a few candy canes hung from its branches. Her daughter had a life and family of her own. She hadn’t visited her in years, and neither reached out to the other. The last time she had seen her was five years ago at her husband Bill’s funeral. Joan was quiet and kept to herself. It’s not that she had a problem with people; she just didn’t always know what to say to strangers.
“Maybe I’ll make something special for Christmas Eve dinner?” she thought to herself. Bill’s favorite was roast beef with carrots and mashed potatoes, but it seemed extravagant to make a meal like that for one person. Instead, Joan ended up walking to Betty’s Cafe on the corner where she ordered her usual – a hot beef commercial.
“I’ll take a piece of blueberry pie tonight, too,” she told Betty. Why not? It’s Christmas”
Betty was always there to take her order and she considered her a friend. Betty’s Cafe was one of the only places where she was spoken to by name.
On top of running the restaurant, Betty lived with a mother who was battling dementia. She was a good soul and a hard worker; the kind of daughter that Joan would have liked to have.
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Also overlooking the skating rink on that busy corner of the city was St Mark’s hospital. Looking down from her hospital window on the 8th floor was 45-year old Patricia. It sure was a shame that she would be spending Christmas in a hospital bed. She wondered which nurse would be working tonight and felt bad they would be giving up their holiday. Patricia was recently divorced and had relocated to the city for a job. A few coworkers had taken her out for karaoke one night before she had suffered her stroke. Those same co-workers had sent her a signed card, a plant, and a box of chocolates. Other than this kind gesture, she doubted she would hear from them. Her brother and his wife lived in a nearby suburb. Upon moving closeby, she assumed she would see or hear from them more often, but had only seen them once in the past year. It’s a pity she had never been invited to their house.
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Among a group of college students at the skating rink is good looking and happy go lucky, Max. Finals are finally over and the feeling of relief brings a reason to celebrate. Max is thankful that the countless late nights of studying are over and he can just chill for a few weeks. He has decided to take up his housemate’s invitation to stay in the city to celebrate Christmas. His Dad has remarried and lives with the family in the suburbs.
“Dad told me they are giving their kids a puppy for Christmas this year, and it sounds like they won’t miss me,” he told his roommate as they skated around the rink. Things had been awkward since Max told his Dad that he was gay and had a boyfriend. He could tell that his coming out was a big surprise and a disappointment to his dad. They never had much in common to talk about, and now it would feel even more so.
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These snapshots are all surprisingly related. Each person’s story is intertwined with the first family – the husband, wife, and two kids. In that car, carrying the Christmas tree, is the young daughter of the homeless man. If the man with the sign would have turned his head at the moment the van passed, he may have seen his daughter smiling at him from her car seat.
The widow in the high-rise apartment happens to be the mother of the woman in the van. They haven’t spoken to one another for five years. It’s unclear why the daughter doesn’t have an interest in a relationship with her mother. Maybe there is a misunderstanding between them? Just five minutes after the van left the neighborhood with the Christmas tree, Joan walked down that same street on her way to eat at the cafe. If she would have been 5 minutes earlier, she may have had a surprise meeting with her estranged daughter.
The man in the car has a sister he hasn’t seen in a while named Patricia. She is the one who is spending Christmas in the hospital. He knows his sister has moved to the city for work, but they haven’t spoken, and he has no idea she is sick.
The college student, Max, is the man’s son from his first marriage. Max decided to go skating with his friends very near where his dad was picking out a Christmas tree at the downtown farmers market. In fact, just an hour before the family was paying for their tree, Max was at the same farmers market buying some candied nuts, which made him think of his dad. Max had been wishing he felt more comfortable calling his dad just to chat while he was on break from classes and finally had some extra time.
The man in the car, caught up in his own crisis of job loss and his wife’s anxiety, is unaware that his sister is looking down at him from her hospital room, his son skating within a block of the farmers market, and his mother-in-law getting ready to walk the same street to the cafe. He has forgotten, or maybe doesn’t realize that his sister is lonely, and that his son wishes they could talk. His wife doesn’t understand that her daughter’s birth father and her own mother would give anything to be granted an hour with the family this Christmas.
These family members were all within minutes of a chance meeting, yet fate didn’t allow them the opportunity – at least this time. On another day with another set of circumstances, maybe things would have been different.
