The
Star The Wisemen Saw
Hurry, hurry, thought Ruth Greer. She tapped her fingers
on the steering wheel. Traffic moved through town like the last drops of ketchup
from the bottle.
Rush, rush. Why did I invite both families to Christmas
dinner? I must have been out of my mind,
Bob’s parents are nice. It’s my family who’ll act like I’m
the idiot child. Marcy’s house is spotless and she never gets in a flap. All my
life I’ve heard, “Hurry, Ruth. If you would plan, you would get things done.”
It’s Christmas Eve and five o’clock, she thought. I’ve
just finished my Christmas shopping. I promise and I promise. Never again. The
promise doesn’t work. Every year, I have to shop on Christmas Eve.
“Hey, Mom,” shouted Timmy in his loudest voice. “Why can’t
we see Santa? There’s so much I want to tell him.”
“Me, too. Me, too,” shouted the three-year-old twins.
Bother Santa, thought Ruth. I’d like to send him to the
moon.
“I want a robot, a sled, a new bike, a racing car set and some
of those trucks that run by them selves,” shouted five-year-old Timmy. “I’ve
got to tell Santa.
“Me, too. Me, too," shouted the twins.
“Would you sit still and shut up,” said Ruth through
clenched teeth. There is no Santa, she wanted to shout. He’s someone made up to
drive parents crazy. I wish there wasn’t a Christmas. I wish I didn’t have a mother
and a sister who keep perfect homes.
It was snowing lightly when Ruth pulled into the driveway.
Nearly six o’clock. Two hours behind schedule. I might be finished by tomorrow
morning. I’ll be glad when Christmas is over.
“In the house, kids,” she said and grabbed two bags from
the seat beside her. She dropped them on the kitchen table and hurried out for
the rest.
“Out,” she shouted at the boys. They were standing on
chairs lifting packages from the bags. “Outside and play. Daddy will be here soon.”
“I want to help,” said Timmy.
“Me, too. Me, too," echoed the twins.
“Come on, kids. Outside,” shouted Ruth over their voices.
“Please.”
The door slammed behind the three boys. Ruth slumped in a
chair and rubbed her forehead. She was getting a headache and she didn’t have
time to nurse it. She shouldn’t be sitting here.
“Mind over matter, “she mumbled. “Think positively.”
But she couldn’t. There were groceries to put away, pies to
bake, cranberry sauce to prepare, the turkey to stuff and start baking. Last
minute purchases to wrap and the tree to trim after the kids went to bed.
I’ll never get done, she thought. All those jobs
suffocated her. She looked at the clock. Bob’s late. Dinner’s not ready. The
guest room beds had to be made.
She threw some hamburgers in the oven and dashed upstairs.
I’ll make the beds up. Then I can spend time with Mom and Dad Greer when they
arrive. They’re darlings. They won’t mind if everything’s not perfect.
Only Mother and Marcy will be looking for what I haven’t
done. When they come tomorrow, they’ll try to take over. This time I’m going to
refuse.
The bottom sheets were on the bed when Ruth remembered the
groceries hadn’t been put away. She dashed downstairs and stopped short. Muddy
footprints and clumps of snow left a trail across the clean kitchen floor.
What have they done now, she thought. The trail led to the
table. Oh, no, they’ve drunk the whipping cream. Bob’ll have to go to the store
for more.
Ruth took a deep breath. I don’t have time to cry. She
jammed things into the refrigerator and cupboards and set the table. As she
called the children, she sighed. I haven’t played with them all week. Why is
tomorrow so important to me? Why does it matter what Mother and Marcy think? It
does. I’m tired of being Miss Scatterbrain.
When Bob came in, she had supper on the table. “Traffic’s
fierce,” he said and kissed her. “You’re tense. Stop worrying about tomorrow. It’s
just another day.”
Ruth began to cry. “It’s not just another day. It’s
Christmas. We’re having company and the children drank the whipping cream.”
Bob laughed. “Is that all? I’ll go to the store after
supper.
The house was silent when Bob and the boys left. Ruth
wished she could relax but there was too much to do. She had mixed the filling
for the pumpkin pies while Bob and the boys ate. She rolled the crusts and set the pies to bake. While she was cleaning the cranberries, the phone rang.
“Ruth, dear,” said her mother. “Would you like me to come
over and help? I know how frantic you get.”
“Everything’s under control,” said Ruth. “Just a minute.”
She turned off the water and scooped the cranberries back into the bowl. “I’ll
see you tomorrow, Mother.”
“Are you sure you don’t need me?”
“Perfectly sure.”
The back door opened and the boys dashed in. They waved
candy canes. When they hugged her they left sticky imprints on her arms.
“Santa. Santa,” shouted the twins.
“It really was Santa,” Tommy said. “He gave us candy. He
said we were good.”
“Good. Good,” echoed the twins.
“Quiet,” shouted Bob. “Upstairs and get undressed.” He
shook his head as they ran off. “Had to get a can of cream. They were out of
the other.”
“Those darn kids’ said Ruth.
He pulled her close. “Don’t take it so seriously. You’re
been frantic all week. Mom and Dad don’t care what we eat. They want to be with
us.”
“It’s not your parents. It’s Mother and Marcy. They act
like I’m a goof.” She sighed. “Most of the time they’re right.”
“If you’re a goof, that’s the way I like you.” He kissed
her on the forehead.
“Don’t make jokes,” said Ruth. “I can see Mother and my
sister when they come in. ‘Ruth, dear, is there anything we can do? Your pies
are watery. Are you sure you baked the turkey long enough?’ Just for once, I
would like to show them.”
He kissed her again. “You do just fine. I’ll get the kids
ready for bed.”
“Bed,” shouted Ruth. “The guest room beds aren’t made
yet.” She started to the door. “I can’t leave this food. What am I going to
do/”
“Relax,” Bob said.
“How can I when everything’s getting out of hand.” Ruth
heard water running. “See what those kids are doing.” They would decide to take
a bath tonight when I spent two hours cleaning the bathroom.
As she melted butter for the stuffing, she felt like she
was missing something. I don’t know what, she thought. I feel so empty.”
The phone and the front door bell rang at the same time.
Why can’t everyone leave me alone, she thought as she grabbed the phone. “Just
a minute,” she shouted. “Someone’s at the door.” Marcy’s mocking laughter
followed her down the hall.
“Mom, you’re early,” she said.
Mrs. Greer enfolded Ruth in her ample arms. “We made good
time. Dad’s bringing our things in. Where are the boys?”
“Bob’s getting them ready for bed.”
“I’ll run up and help him.”
Ruth remembered Marcy and hurried back to the kitchen. The
awful smell of burning butter greeted her. She ran to the stove and turned the
burner off. Tears stung her eyes when she picked up the phone. “I’m here.”
“Poor little sister,” said Marcy. “Everything in a mess?”
Ruth counted to ten. “No. Bob’s getting the children ready
for bed. When the phone and doorbell went off together, I had to get both.”
“Mother called and suggested we come over and help.” drawled
Marcy. “I’m sure you need us. You do want to impress your in-laws.”
“I don’t have to impress then,” said Ruth. It’s you and
Mother, she thought.
“Maybe we’ll have a relaxed day at your house for a
change. Going to chain the kids?”
“You don’t have to come.”
“I wouldn’t miss it, little sister,” said Marcy. “See you
at church tonight.”
Ruth stood and stared into space. She’d forgotten about
church. There was a sitter coming in three hours. I’ll have to be ready. Last
year, Marcy had entertained on Christmas Eve, gone to church and had a perfect
meal at two the next afternoon, but Marcy didn’t have children.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t have children, thought Ruth.
Then she gasped. What am I thinking? It wouldn’t be a home without the boys
even if they do make messes.
“What’s the matter, Ruthie?”
Ruth forced herself to smile. “I was just wondering if I
was going to get done.”
“Sure smells good,” said Mr. Greer.” Even the burned
butter?”
“Didn’t notice that. I’ll run these things upstairs.”
Ruth returned to the stuffing. I’d better chop the onions
and celery before I melt more butter. As she chopped the onions, tears streamed
down her face. She could hear laughter from upstairs. I’m missing the best part
of Christmas trying to impress Mother and Marcy when I know it can’t be done.
“Ruth, the boys are ready for their story,” called Bob.
Ruth took the stairs two at a time. The boys looked so
sweet she wanted to gather them into her arms. She would rather have them and a
messy house than an empty perfect home like Marcy’s.
“What story?” she asked.
“The Wise Men and the star,” said Timmy.
“Star. Star, echoed the twins.
Ruth sat on Timmy’s bed. The twins snuggled on either side
of her. Mom and Dad Greer sat on the bed with Timmy between them. Bob leaned
against the wall.
“Behold, three wisemen came to Herod…”
When Ruth finished the story, she sat quietly for a few
minutes. She had missed so much of Christmas these past few days. What did a
perfect house have to do with the season?
She got up and walked to the window. She pressed her face
against the pane. A few snowflakes drifted lazily down. The sky was full of
stars but one appeared brighter than the rest.
“What do you see?” asked Bob.
“Come here,” she said. When Bob and the boys had gathered
close, she pointed to the brightest star. “Maybe that’s the star the wisemen
saw.”
She and Bob tucked the boys in bed. When they started
downstairs, she turned to Bob. “Mother and Marcy will have to be happy with our
house as it is. I lost the meaning of Christmas trying to impress them. I’m
going to be me.”
Bob squeezed her hand. “That’s my girl.”
“No,” said Ruth. “Your scatterbrain.”
The odor of pumpkin pie and stuffing filtered up to her.
I’m glad I saw the star, she thought. Christmas is for family and love. I have
both.
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