TITLE:
THREE CHRISTMAS CARDS
By: Debra P.
I.
RUNAWAY SLEIGH
[ADAM ENCOUNTERS A SPECIAL CHRISTMAS EVE VISITOR]
The
sun had only just set, but the trail through the woods was already growing
dark. Adam Cartwright urged his mount to a brisk pace through the light
dusting of snow that covered the path. Sport snorted, his breath becoming
visible on the cold air. He tossed his head proudly and lifted his feet
high as he went, leaving a clear trail of hoof prints behind him.
It
was Christmas Eve, and Adam was hurrying to join his family for the beginning
of their celebrations. He smiled to himself as he rode,
thinking of what awaited him as soon as he arrived home. There would be a
festive supper by candlelight, then the candles on their tree would be lit and
he and his father and brothers would take their places around the hearth to
sing carols, accompanied, of course, by Adam’s guitar. There would be
popcorn and cookies, spiced cider and hot cocoa, and a great deal of
laughter. Then, just before they all retired to bed.,
Ben would bring out the old family Bible and read the Christmas story from the
book of Luke. That was a part of their family tradition that went back as
far as Adam could remember.
In
the morning they would rise early to exchange gifts and dress in their best to
head into town for church. After the service and the exchange of
greetings with all their friends there, they would return home for the climax
of the day, the magnificent feast prepared by Hop Sing.
Suddenly
an unexpected sound intruded itself over Adam’s pleasant anticipations.
The silvery tinkle of bells came drifting through the air from around the next
bend in the road, closely followed by the sound of many hoof beats and shouts
of “Whoa now! Whoa there!” in a resonant voice.
Adam
reined in Sport and gazed curiously up the path, when what to his wondering
eyes should appear, but a runaway sleigh pulled by four small deer! So
startled was he by this apparition that the out of control vehicle with it’s frightened passenger had whizzed right by him before he
was able to react. Urging his horse to the pursuit, he quickly caught up
with the fleeing deer. Reaching out his hand he grabbed hold of the
bridle on one of the leading deer and, slowing down, gradually brought the sleigh
to a safe stop.
It
was only when the sleigh’s driver scrambled down from his seat and landed on
the ground that Adam got a good look at him. He was a short, rotund
little man
dressed in a suit of leather that, in the fading light, appeared to be of a
rusty reddish color. The suit and his cap were both trimmed in what
looked like soft greyish rabbit fur. His face
was framed by a well trimmed grizzled beard, through which his smile shone with
a remarkable warmth. The eyes that peered
through his spectacles were dark and lively. As Adam dismounted the
little man stepped forward to meet him with his gloved hand extended.
“Thank
you! Thank you, young man! I could have been in real trouble if you
hadn’t come along just now. I don’t know what got into my friends
here. They’re usually such steady creatures.”
Adam
took the man’s hand, his face showing his amusement at the scene before him.
“I
take it you’re headed to be the main attraction at someone’s Christmas Eve
party. I must say I’ve never seen a more realistic get up.”
“Oh,
I have a great many stops to make tonight. And as for being ‘realistic’,
why I suppose I’m just as real as anybody else is.” The little man’s eyes
twinkled.
“Excuse
me for asking,” Adam said as he cocked an eyebrow, “but aren’t you supposed to
have eight deer?”
“Oh,
I do, but all eight aren’t needed to pull the sleigh at once. I find
things work best if I use four for the first half of the night, then switch to
the others for the second half. That way none of them get overtaxed.”
Adam
found himself slightly taken aback. The man was starting to sound as
though he really believed himself to be....
“Uh...I
don’t believe you actually told me your name,” he finally said.
“The
man looked at him with a kindly gaze. “But you already know my name,
son. It’s Nicholas.”
“Named
after the saint?” Adam inquired.
Nicholas
chuckled. “Not exactly.”
Adam
looked on bemused as the man stepped up to each of the deer in turn, laying his
hand on each of their muzzles and whispering in their ears. The animals
became calmer and the jangling of their harness bells became quieter.
“I
think they’ll be all right, now,” Nicholas said, “and I really have to be
getting on. I have an awfully tight schedule tonight you know.”
“Of
course,” Adam returned in a low voice, still not certain what to make of all
this.
Nicholas
climbed back into the sleigh and took up the reins.
“Thank
you again for your help, Adam. Don’t be surprised if you find a little something
extra under the tree tomorrow morning. And a very Merry
Christmas to you and all your family!”
And
with that, Nicholas clucked to his deer and the sleigh took off down the
path. Adam stared after them until they disappeared into the deepening
darkness. Then suddenly a thought occurred to him. “Wait a
minute. I never told him my name. How did he know who I was?”
His eyes widened. “No, it can’t be...”
He
continued to stare down the path after the vanished sleigh for a long
moment. Finally, shaking his head, he turned Sport around to resume his
original route. As he looked up he noticed that it was becoming quite a
starry night, and it was time for him to be getting home He was
anticipating the about to commence festivities more than ever. There was
just one thing. If there was in fact an extra present for him under the
tree on Christmas morning, how would he ever explain it to his family?
II. THAT WAS A WONDERFUL PARTY
[CHRISTMAS FESTIVITY ON THE PONDEROSA!]
As I rode up to the ranch house at the
Ponderosa, it was obvious that the yearly Christmas party was well under
way. The bright light from inside showed up the outline of the wreaths
hanging in the windows. Faint sounds of laughter and music made their way
past the thick, sturdy walls to catch the ear of new arrivals.
As
I stepped up to the door and raised my hand to knock, it unexpectedly opened,
revealing Hoss standing there with a smile that warmed the winter night.
“Well,
howdy, Deb! Come on in! We was wonderin’ if you was gonna make
it.”
“Oh,
I couldn’t miss this, Hoss. I’m sorry I’m late.”
“Now
don’t you worry about that none. Here, let me
take your cloak.”
“Thank
you.”
As
Hoss hurried away to put my cloak with the others in the spare room off the
dining area, I stepped forward and took in the wonderful scene unfolding before
me.
The
great room was dominated by the beautiful, tall pine tree that filled the
corner between the staircase and the fireplace. At least a dozen
gingerbread men hung from its branches, along with chains of popcorn and
colorful paper links. There were carved wooden toy ornaments (I
particularly noticed one little rocking horse) and festive ribbons. And
on the top there was a beautiful, many-pointed silver star, shining in the
light of the tree’s glowing candles.
The
air was filled with the scent of pine, from the tree, and from the garlands
that hung in graceful curves from the stair railing, the mantle, and the door
frame. The middle of the room was filled with gaily dressed couples
twirling energetically to the music of Homer Jeffries’ fiddle.
Homer is probably the best known fiddler in the area and plays for numerous
parties and other events.
As
I looked on in delight and began to tap my foot, Hoss reappeared by my
side. “I’ll bet you’re thirsty, ain’t ya?,” he said.
“I
sure am,” I responded.
“Well,
let’s take care o’ that right now.” And, taking my arm gently, he led me
over to the long table where food and drink were laid out. Three beautiful
candelabra adorned the table, each holding three tall, red tapers that shed a
warm light over the plates of delicacies. At either end of the table
rested a large bowl with a ladle, surrounded by cups. The one
nearer to us held egg nog, the one at the farther end
held punch.
“Punch
or nog?,” Hoss asked, his
eyes roving eagerly over the hearty spread.
“Egg
nog will be fine, thank you.” I picked up one
of the already filled cups resting there and began to sip. It was
excellent. I smiled as I detected the taste of a touch of brandy in the
mixture. While I stood there enjoying the treat, Hoss had grabbed a shiny
apple from a bowl heaped with them. He took a bite and a look of sheer
pleasure came over his face. With a quick glance to see that noone was looking, he grabbed another apple and slipped it
inside his shirt, then pulled his vest tighter around him, attempting to hide
the bulge. That made me smile.
At
that point Joe appeared, his eyes sparkling with even more than their usual vivacity.
“Hi, Deb! Good to see you,” he said.
“Good
to see you too, Joe!,” I answered heartily.
He
leaned forward and spoke in a low, conspiratorial voice. “I’ve got a bet
with big brother there that I’ll dance tonight with at least eleven different
girls. You’ll help me win it, won’t you?”
“Of
course I will!” I smiled at him.
Joe
took my hand, but before we could join the dancing the number came to an
end. There was a round of applause from the guests, which Homer Jeffries
accepted with a gracious bow. I looked over at Joe and shrugged my
shoulders apologetically.
“It’s
OK,” he whispered.
Homer
announced that it was time for him to take a break, but that there would be
more dancing later on. In the meantime, all who so desired were invited
to join in the singing of Christmas favorites. A good number of guests
accepted the invitation and drew near to the hearth, while the rest hovered
around the edges of the group, eager enough to listen, if not to sing
themselves.
Joe
and I moved to take places among the singers. The logs in the fireplace
blazed merrily, their heat bringing a rosy glow to the faces of people
nearby. As I was about to sit down, I noticed a box resting at the corner
of the hearth. From it came a sound I thought I recognized. I
kneeled down and looked inside the box.
It
was lined with soft rags, on top of which lay six purring balls of fluff.
“Kittens!,” I exclaimed, picking up a pure black mite with soulful
eyes. “How adorable!”
“Would
you like one?” Ben came over and stood over me with a smile on his
face. “I’ve been hoping to find homes for them with some of the guests
tonight. Three of them are already spoken for, but the one you’re holding
is still available.”
“Oh,
that would be wonderful! I’d love it!”
“Four
down, two to go,” Ben grinned.
While
this was going on Adam and another young man, whom I did not recognize but who
was obviously a friend of his, took their places in front of the group with
their guitars. For the next twenty minutes or so they took requests,
leading the group in hearty renditions of everything from “The First Noel” to
“What Child is This?” to “Joy to the World”, ending
with a gentle and lilting “Silent Night”.
Then
it was time to go back to dancing. Homer Jeffries took his place and
retuned his fiddle while those who intended to trip the light fantastic paired
off and the others headed for the refreshment table.
Joe
was making his way toward me and I was preparing to give him a little bow when
I heard a voice behind me.
“May
I have the honor of this dance?”
I
turned around and found myself staring up into the dark eyes of Adam
Cartwright. My breath caught as I responded to his nearness. The
contrast of his white shirt against his tanned skin and black hair was
stunning, and the look in his eyes could have melted the polar ice cap!
It
was all I could do to stammer out “It would be my pleasure, sir!”
He
looked over at Joe, who had stopped in his tracks. “You’ll just have to
wait for the next one, younger brother,” he said, and Joe returned him a look
of resignation.
As
the fiddle took up the strains of “The Skater’s
Waltz” Adam put his hand on my waist, I put my hand on his shoulder, and off we
whirled into an enchanted land of melody and delight.
That
was a wonderful party!
III. CANDLE FLAME
[ONE OF THE CARTWRIGHTS IS FAR FROM HOME AT CHRISTMAS]
(One of the few references to Adam in the series after he left the Ponderosa
had him spending some time in
It
was Christmas Eve, and Ben Cartwright’s thoughts were bittersweet as he gazed
out the window of the ranch house at the quiet scene outside. A light new
snow had fallen, ending a couple of hours previously, and still lay almost undisturbed
in the fading glow of the setting sun. The pristine scene was marred only
by a couple of sets of footprints running from the house to the barn and back,
left there when Hoss and Joe had done their chores earlier. The sight
held an almost unearthly beauty, but to Ben the
new snow brought up poignant thoughts of past Christmas Eves, and of the family
member who had been such an important part of them but who would not be here
tonight.
From
far behind him, near the fireplace in the great room, he heard the voices of
Hoss and Joe raised in light hearted banter Though he
couldn’t quite catch all their words it wasn’t hard to figure out what they
were talking about. It had been a good idea, Ben thought, to open up the
presents from Adam early. In reality he didn’t think there had been much
choice. He chuckled to himself as he recalled the curiosity and impatient
longing with which the boys had regarded the box sent by their older brother
ever since it had arrived from
Ben
looked back toward the fireplace and saw Hoss sitting on the settee, holding
his gift, a beautiful framed sketch of a horse. Adam had written that the
sketch was the work of a rising artist named Edgar Degas whose favorite
subjects were horses and ballet dancers. “Take very good care of it,
Hoss,” Adam wrote. “I’m betting that some day it will be worth a great
deal more than I paid for it.” Hoss, of course, had little regard
for the monetary value of the artwork. It was the image of the horse
itself, so graceful and so dynamic, that enchanted
him. Ben looked on fondly as his middle son gazed in delight at the
sketch and pondered the question of where the best place would be to hang his
new treasure.
Joe
had laughed in amusement at the note from Adam which accompanied his gift - a
handsome bottle of a fine men’s cologne. “This scent is supposed to be
VERY appealing to the women. Not that you need any help in that regard, younger brother,” it said, “but I
figured you’d appreciate it anyway. Wear some to the next dance
you go to and let me know what happens.” Joe had splashed a little of the
cologne on his face and, in response to some gentle teasing from Hoss, ventured the opinion that Sharrie
Forrester, his latest flame, would probably love the stuff. All in all,
he seemed quite pleased.
Ben
turned back toward the window, and as he did so he drew his new lounging
jacket, his gift from his oldest son, more closely around him. The jacket
was beautiful, soft and warm and handsomely styled, but more important to Ben
was the short letter from Adam that went with it. “This jacket should be
very nice for cold winter evenings. My sincere hope is that you will wear
it in good health for many years to come, and that you
will think of me when you put it on,” it read.
“No
need to hope for that, son,” Ben thought to himself as he felt the moisture
beginning to well up in his eyes; “I think of you every day as it is.”
Suddenly
he became aware of Joe coming up to stand beside him.
“I’ll
bet I know what you’re thinking,” Joe said quietly as he laid a hand on his
father’s shoulder. “You’re missing Adam, aren’t you, Pa?”
“Yes...I
am, Joe,” Ben returned. “I guess I’ve never
really quite gotten used to his not being here.”
“I
guess I haven’t either,” Joe admitted with a look in his eyes that tugged at
his father’s heart.
Hoss
came up to join them. “I miss his music just about now, that’s fer sure,” he said. “Singing carols in a little bit
just ain’t gonna be the
same without Adam’s guitar.”
Joe’s
eyes brightened. “Well now, I was just going to say something about that.
I’ve got a little bit of a Christmas surprise for the two of you. You
see, I was thinking that we were going to need somebody to do that job...so I
decided to learn how to do it myself.” His father and brother looked at
him curiously. “You may have noticed that I’ve been going into town more
often than usual lately,” Joe continued. “Well, I’ve been taking some
guitar lessons from Rick Wagner. Now I’m not claiming to play anywhere
near as well as Adam, but I do think I can do a pretty passable job on most of
our favorites.” He looked at his father with a wide smile.
“Joe, that was a wonderful thing to do. I appreciate it
very much, son.” Ben reached out and drew his youngest to him in a quick
hug.
Hoss
was grinning too. “Pa, don’t you think it’s just about time we were lightin’ the candles on the tree and gettin’
down to doin’ some singin?
I’m right anxious to hear what little brother here can do.”
“I
think it is, Hoss,” Ben replied. “But before we do that...” He took
a candle from a pile of extras that were lying on the desk, placed it in a
holder and set it on the window ledge. Then he drew out a match, struck
it, and touched it to the wick. The candle flame flickered for a moment, then settled into a steady warm glow that brightened the
room and reached out through the window to illuminate the darkening night.
“Merry
Christmas, son,” Ben said in a low voice. “God keep you safe and grant
you joy.”
“Merry
Christmas, older brother,” Joe almost whispered. “Wish you were here
tonight.”
“From
me too, Adam,” Hoss added quietly.
Together
the three of them gazed out the window, their hopes and prayers joining
together and being carried by the candle’s beams far out into the night.
************************
Adam
Cartwright made his way quickly through the cold of the Parisian night, keeping as much as possible in the light of the
street lamps. Finally he reached the door of the pension where he had a
rented room. Shivering, he hurried inside
and up the stairs. A few minutes later he had started a fire in his
room’s fireplace and settled himself in the chair in front of it to warm
himself. As he held out his hands to the flames, a pensive
expression crossed his face.
This
Christmas Eve had been a full one for him. A friend of his named
Paul Francis, an American who had been living in Paris for a number of years
and who had established himself as an art dealer, had thrown a Christmas party
to which many of the Americans currently residing in Paris were invited.
Adam had already met a number of these people in the course of his visit and he
found them to be good company. The festive holiday atmosphere had worked it’s magic and he had enjoyed himself greatly. Later
on he had attended a late night candlelight church service, which he had found
very beautiful. But now that all the rush of activity was over and
he had the chance to catch his breath, he found his thoughts turning, not to
the events of the day, but to memories of Christmases past, back home in
He
was thinking especially of the Christmas church services he had attended when
he was quite young. Personally he had always preferred a late service on
Christmas Eve to a service on Christmas Day. Somehow there was a special
atmosphere at a late service that he felt made the whole Christmas story come
across in an especially real and vivid way. He remembered services in the
plain wooden church back in
Finally, when the song was over, everyone blew out their candles and stood
silent for a moment, caught up in the sacred magic of the night. The
smell of candle smoke represented one of Adam’s
most powerful memories. It would always evoke Christmas for him.
On
a sudden impulse, Adam got up from his chair, picked up the candle on the night
stand by his bed and placed it in the window that looked out onto the
street. He quickly found a match and lit the candle.
As
he watched the flame burning brightly he felt a sense of
peace wash over him. He felt more connected to his home and his
family than at any time since he had left them.
“Merry
Christmas,
“And...who knows?...maybe...just maybe...one day soon I’ll be with
you again.”
THE
END