Chapter 5

© Copyright 2005 by Elizabeth Delayne

My tears have been my food
day and night,
while men say to me all day long,
"Where is your God?"
Psalm 42:3

arter lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling, thankful that he still had his own room. He wept into the night. He just wasn’t sure he could weep anymore. He could hear everyone else down stairs. He could smell the cinnamon buns his grandmother must have made.

He just didn’t have it in him to get out of bed.

He lifted up another prayer for his brother, for Noel. He wanted them back together, but what he really wanted was peace. He wanted...

The knock at his door didn’t surprise him and he knew who it was by the soft cadence. Becca came in and shut the door behind her.

“I thought you’d want to know what happened last night.”

“Did Noel say anything about what happened between her and Dave?” Carter pushed himself up to lean against his headboard.

“No, but she has packed the pictures of them, that print he bought of her university–even the throw she used to huddle under with him at the football games. She cleaned, like, everything. It felt like a museum in there.”

Becca walked over and sat on the edge of his bed. “She was so distracted. Not really Noel, you know?”

“Yeah. And it sounds like Dave. He cleaned his room.”

Becca smiled weakly. “At least we know if they do get together, they’ll keep things orderly.”

“We have to get them there first.”

“What happened last night with you?”

“Nothing,” he breathed out the word. At least, not with Dave. The dam of mourning released within himself had been deep.

“Pops told this story about dad wanting to marry Dave’s mom. Dad didn’t want to. He was afraid the cancer would come back.”

“He was never afraid of the cancer.”

“He was then.”

“What did Dave say?”

Carter shrugged. “Nothing–I don’t think. He was angry at Pops first. But I think he thought about it. Then he got up and went to bed. He didn’t go see Noel this morning?”

“He’s down in the kitchen with Gran,” she wrinkled her nose. “And he’s … whistling.”

“Maybe he’s planning something tonight,” Carter mused as hope built. “It is Christmas Eve.”

“And her birthday.”

Carter looked up at the ceiling as he thought it through. Noel was part of the family.

He wanted a miracle.



Somewhere during the afternoon, Gran got it in her head that everyone had to shower before the Christmas Eve service. She argued–quite firmly–that there was no reason that any of them should go without a thorough cleaning.

It was Christmas Eve, after all.

Even Dave, who managed to come home from work in time, and Gracie, were forced into the fracas.

It wasn’t easy to do with so many people in the house and only two bathrooms, especially with Gracie home from college, adding weight to Becca’s usual bathroom reservoir of girly bottles, brushes and things.

Only Charlie and Lee were going to be participating in the night’s activities–and they were just shepherds, covered up in their costume–nothing like the main event. No one would be looking at them, not for long.

Then Dave left with Gracie and Lee, to head up to the church early. Carter had hoped he would find Noel, but his hopes were dashed when they arrived at the church and Dave was sitting alone in the pew, saving a spot for the rest of them.

They shuffled passed him, one after the other, and settled down. People around them watched them. Most would know their family history, about the car wreck and the last four hard months.

Carter pushed at the irritation but it remained. People would know, people would talk. People would feel sorry for them–it was in their eyes.

“Where’s Gracie?”

Dave had been looking off to the side, as if he was waiting–possibly waiting for Noel to show. He glanced distractedly at Carter. “She’s off helping everyone get ready.”

“And Noel?”

Dave visibly swallowed with difficulty, “I haven’t seen her. Not yet. I need to—”

He pushed himself up and muttered something as he moved away.

Carter sighed and dropped back against the pew. If he needed an answer, he’d gotten one.

But, maybe Dave wasn’t happy about the results ... maybe there was still hope.

A miracle.

Next to him, Becca leaned close. “Where’s Dave going?”

Carter shrugged, but looked back to watch as he disappeared through the side doors.

“Hopefully to find Noel.”

But when the lights dimmed, Dave returned alone and shifted restlessly as they rose to sing carols.

A weight of sadness fell over Carter. Noel wouldn’t be part of this Christmas. Carter wasn’t sure if they could have Christmas. It wasn’t Christmas without his mom and dad, it wasn’t the same.

He felt restless and he wanted to bolt. He didn’t want to be there, not when everyone around him stood with their families. Even his friends stood with their families. And everyone knew what had happened to his own.

He could not sing.

He could barely breathe.

What would his Gran say if he bolted right in the middle of church? She had them take a shower just to come.

He glanced over at her.

And saw the grief in her eyes, the grief in his Pop’s eyes. They suddenly looked so old, so weary. They grieved. They stood, surrounded by the season, and grieved.

Maybe it was too much to hope for Dave to hold onto Noel, when no one seemed to be able to hold onto hope.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

Surrounded by the voices raised in song, Carter looked at the traditional wooden manger scene. It was set-up center stage in preparation for the children’s role in the service.

He stared at the simple wooden cradle, with the hay from someone’s barn spilling out onto the carpeted stage.

It wasn’t even the same, not like it had been back on that night long ago…he knew that, but he couldn’t take his eyes from the manger. There was something unfair about that, about bringing a baby into the world, bringing God’s son into the world, in that way, into this place...

To where death and pain and hurt rose up over you.

To the unfairness of life and the reality of death.

God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.

There Carter found his miracle.

There in the simple manger scene as the children filed onto the stage.

There, in the face of a plastic baby Jesus.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only son…

He couldn’t have put it into words. He didn’t have answers. But there, on that stage, and in his heart, he was given Christmas where he hadn’t thought he would find it.

He didn’t have to have Noel in his life. Things didn’t have to be okay.

And he would still have hope in his heart.


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