Post by yukitamashii on Jan 17, 2008 18:49:17 GMT -5
You may remember my December challenge fic...
A Merry Christmas
“Ding dong, merrily on high, in heav’n the bells are ringing!” Cindy’s voice rang out somewhat off-key as she plunked away at the piano as Beth had taught her. Her cheerful face was tilted towards the keys in her first happy Christmas, her adopted mother leaning over her, ready to help misaimed fingers at any moment, caroling with her.
Samantha was sitting not far away on the living room floor, wrapping presents with the enthusiasm of a child and about the same amount of skill. She also sang, though more melodically than her new sister. Ashleigh’s mother, Elaine, sat next to her, humming and wrapping gifts with the expertise of long-practice while Caroline hummed also and hung tinsel on the tree. The men were at the Griffen breeding farm tonight, the women at Whitebrook, and tomorrow they would all be reunited for the Christmas party at Townsend Acres, if they didn’t see each other at their homes first.
Ashleigh, the only one not singing in her home, sat on a chair by the window in a comfortable cream-colored sweater and jeans, looking out the window. She couldn’t wish she’d never inherited the piano from her Grandma Iris, her mother’s mother, though she allowed herself a moment wishing Beth could give Cindy voice lessons as well.
‘Not fair,’ she told herself. ‘Why can’t I be more in the Christmas spirit?’
“Ashleigh, what’s wrong?” Samantha’s voice at her elbow gave her a start, and she turned in her chair.
“Oh! Sammy, you started me…” The younger woman didn’t smile, only looked worried. “I don’t know,” Ashleigh admitted, raising a hand to finger a few strands of hair. “I just can’t figure it out.” Again, her gaze was drawn out the window.
After a moment, Samantha laughed, drawing everyone’s attention as the Christmas carol drew to a close. “Ashleigh, if you wanted to go out and see the horses, all you had to do was say so.”
Was that what was wrong? Ashleigh wasn’t sure, but she felt her heart lighten a bit. She grinned. “Well, let’s go!” And ten minutes later they were going up and down stalls with carrots and wreaths Caroline had liberated from the attic (that Ashleigh had never known were there and that Mike had probably forgotten about entirely).
“Let’s hang them,” she said to the others, and all but Elaine drifted off to decorate. Instead, she walked up to her younger daughter’s side and smiled faintly.
“What’s wrong, Ashleigh?”
Ashleigh sighed. “I don’t know,” she repeated herself. “I’ve been feeling so down lately. And the happier everyone else gets, the guiltier I feel about it.”
After a moment spent studying the far wall, Elaine took her arm and steered her down the hall towards Wonder’s stall. The mare perked her ears and nickered as Ashleigh came up and stroked her nose and neck, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“As a child, you were always like this at Christmas time,” Elaine said softly after a while.
“I was?” Ashleigh asked in amazement, shaking her head as Wonder’s silky mane fell through her fingers “I don’t remember that.” She frowned at her mother as if she might be being told a fib.
Elaine chuckled and shook her head. “Christmas always made you melancholy. We couldn’t figure why, your father and me, for the longest time. Then, when we began to take you with us to our annual charities, you began to perk up.”
Ashleigh pondered this lost bit of history; certainly she hardly remembered her Christmases before age ten. They were lost in a whirl of memories of presents and horses and being left with her siblings at their grandparents while her parents attended the horse-people Christmas parties (as she’d called them then) that they had to go to.
“You were about six years old when we started. You stopped going with us when you were nine, when you became old enough to want to stay with the horses. But I think,” Elaine leaned over the half-door and smiled at Wonder, “that even as a child, you felt the commercialism in Christmas and weren’t happy about it. You seemed to understand the true meaning of Christmas at an early age. Of course, as time’s gone by, you’ve forgotten, and well, we haven’t been of any help,” she admitted. “Perhaps if you—if we all go back to giving, instead of wondering about what we’ll receive, we’ll all be better off.”
“Do you have something in mind?” Ashleigh asked, getting the feeling from her mother’s tone that she’d thought about this a lot. Her mother always pondered much before acting; she liked to be sure of herself. She wondered how long her seasonal depression had begun to be apparent to her mother once again, and if the hope rising in her heart would be crushed or not.
Her mother smiled. “We all do.” She glanced around, and down the hall the others came, expectant looks on their happy faces. “We’re going down to the women’s shelter on the corner of thirty-fourth and Adam’s. We’ve gathered our donate-able clothing and bought things on women’s Christmas lists, and I bought some on your behalf and don’t even think about repaying me. We’re going to sing carols and help dish out the food the local church prepared before setting the presents around the tree.”
Ashleigh’s mouth dropped open. “But…I…that’s…” The others grinned at her. “That’s wonderful! It’s exactly what we should be doing!” And suddenly she knew for sure that’s what her heart had been telling her was missing from all the activities they’d been rushing to do. They hadn’t spent any time, or so it seemed, pondering the true meaning of the season, or thinking about what others needed who had less.
“The men are going to the men’s shelter. We’ll get to talk about our evenings tomorrow at the party,” Samantha said.
“Well, come on, they’re expecting us!” Caroline urged them back down the hall.
“Are you sure I’m ready to sing?” Cindy asked Beth as they drifted away.
“Certainly,” her mother replied. “And anyway, we’ll all have these little lyrics books I made up…”
Ashleigh smiled at Wonder warmly, kissing her nose before turning back to her mother. “Thank you, Mom. For every thing, every year.”
Her mother linked arms with her as they went back up the aisle. “I love you, Ashleigh. It’s no trial at all to me to give you everything. And you’ve shown me how important it is to remember to give to others as well, even if they aren’t kin or close friend.” They walked out into the fallen snow, and it crunched softly beneath their booted feet. Ashleigh’s heart felt truly light for the first time in many evenings.
“Ding dong, merrily on high, in heav’n the bells are ringing,” Ashleigh sang softly under her breath.
A Merry Christmas
“Ding dong, merrily on high, in heav’n the bells are ringing!” Cindy’s voice rang out somewhat off-key as she plunked away at the piano as Beth had taught her. Her cheerful face was tilted towards the keys in her first happy Christmas, her adopted mother leaning over her, ready to help misaimed fingers at any moment, caroling with her.
Samantha was sitting not far away on the living room floor, wrapping presents with the enthusiasm of a child and about the same amount of skill. She also sang, though more melodically than her new sister. Ashleigh’s mother, Elaine, sat next to her, humming and wrapping gifts with the expertise of long-practice while Caroline hummed also and hung tinsel on the tree. The men were at the Griffen breeding farm tonight, the women at Whitebrook, and tomorrow they would all be reunited for the Christmas party at Townsend Acres, if they didn’t see each other at their homes first.
Ashleigh, the only one not singing in her home, sat on a chair by the window in a comfortable cream-colored sweater and jeans, looking out the window. She couldn’t wish she’d never inherited the piano from her Grandma Iris, her mother’s mother, though she allowed herself a moment wishing Beth could give Cindy voice lessons as well.
‘Not fair,’ she told herself. ‘Why can’t I be more in the Christmas spirit?’
“Ashleigh, what’s wrong?” Samantha’s voice at her elbow gave her a start, and she turned in her chair.
“Oh! Sammy, you started me…” The younger woman didn’t smile, only looked worried. “I don’t know,” Ashleigh admitted, raising a hand to finger a few strands of hair. “I just can’t figure it out.” Again, her gaze was drawn out the window.
After a moment, Samantha laughed, drawing everyone’s attention as the Christmas carol drew to a close. “Ashleigh, if you wanted to go out and see the horses, all you had to do was say so.”
Was that what was wrong? Ashleigh wasn’t sure, but she felt her heart lighten a bit. She grinned. “Well, let’s go!” And ten minutes later they were going up and down stalls with carrots and wreaths Caroline had liberated from the attic (that Ashleigh had never known were there and that Mike had probably forgotten about entirely).
“Let’s hang them,” she said to the others, and all but Elaine drifted off to decorate. Instead, she walked up to her younger daughter’s side and smiled faintly.
“What’s wrong, Ashleigh?”
Ashleigh sighed. “I don’t know,” she repeated herself. “I’ve been feeling so down lately. And the happier everyone else gets, the guiltier I feel about it.”
After a moment spent studying the far wall, Elaine took her arm and steered her down the hall towards Wonder’s stall. The mare perked her ears and nickered as Ashleigh came up and stroked her nose and neck, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“As a child, you were always like this at Christmas time,” Elaine said softly after a while.
“I was?” Ashleigh asked in amazement, shaking her head as Wonder’s silky mane fell through her fingers “I don’t remember that.” She frowned at her mother as if she might be being told a fib.
Elaine chuckled and shook her head. “Christmas always made you melancholy. We couldn’t figure why, your father and me, for the longest time. Then, when we began to take you with us to our annual charities, you began to perk up.”
Ashleigh pondered this lost bit of history; certainly she hardly remembered her Christmases before age ten. They were lost in a whirl of memories of presents and horses and being left with her siblings at their grandparents while her parents attended the horse-people Christmas parties (as she’d called them then) that they had to go to.
“You were about six years old when we started. You stopped going with us when you were nine, when you became old enough to want to stay with the horses. But I think,” Elaine leaned over the half-door and smiled at Wonder, “that even as a child, you felt the commercialism in Christmas and weren’t happy about it. You seemed to understand the true meaning of Christmas at an early age. Of course, as time’s gone by, you’ve forgotten, and well, we haven’t been of any help,” she admitted. “Perhaps if you—if we all go back to giving, instead of wondering about what we’ll receive, we’ll all be better off.”
“Do you have something in mind?” Ashleigh asked, getting the feeling from her mother’s tone that she’d thought about this a lot. Her mother always pondered much before acting; she liked to be sure of herself. She wondered how long her seasonal depression had begun to be apparent to her mother once again, and if the hope rising in her heart would be crushed or not.
Her mother smiled. “We all do.” She glanced around, and down the hall the others came, expectant looks on their happy faces. “We’re going down to the women’s shelter on the corner of thirty-fourth and Adam’s. We’ve gathered our donate-able clothing and bought things on women’s Christmas lists, and I bought some on your behalf and don’t even think about repaying me. We’re going to sing carols and help dish out the food the local church prepared before setting the presents around the tree.”
Ashleigh’s mouth dropped open. “But…I…that’s…” The others grinned at her. “That’s wonderful! It’s exactly what we should be doing!” And suddenly she knew for sure that’s what her heart had been telling her was missing from all the activities they’d been rushing to do. They hadn’t spent any time, or so it seemed, pondering the true meaning of the season, or thinking about what others needed who had less.
“The men are going to the men’s shelter. We’ll get to talk about our evenings tomorrow at the party,” Samantha said.
“Well, come on, they’re expecting us!” Caroline urged them back down the hall.
“Are you sure I’m ready to sing?” Cindy asked Beth as they drifted away.
“Certainly,” her mother replied. “And anyway, we’ll all have these little lyrics books I made up…”
Ashleigh smiled at Wonder warmly, kissing her nose before turning back to her mother. “Thank you, Mom. For every thing, every year.”
Her mother linked arms with her as they went back up the aisle. “I love you, Ashleigh. It’s no trial at all to me to give you everything. And you’ve shown me how important it is to remember to give to others as well, even if they aren’t kin or close friend.” They walked out into the fallen snow, and it crunched softly beneath their booted feet. Ashleigh’s heart felt truly light for the first time in many evenings.
“Ding dong, merrily on high, in heav’n the bells are ringing,” Ashleigh sang softly under her breath.