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The Christmas Love (standard:drama, 1259 words)
Author: ChrissyAdded: Dec 12 2003Views/Reads: 1594/981Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This story is about a guy who hates Christmas and then finally figures out the real meaning of it.
 



Commonly, there are two emotional responses to Christmas:apathy and
excitement. Each is exclusive, and people rarely experience both in one 
season. The majority chooses excitement simply because it's easiest. 
It's impossible to ignore a holiday that blitzes every townsquare and 
television screen in the country. Even the media, normally loud and too 
obvious, seems injected with a shot of magic. Really, who can watch 
Charlie Brown put up that pathetic Christmas tree and not feel at least 
a tinge of warmth? Who cares if the program is sandwiched by Geico 
commercials, as long as Chuck's buddies eventually arive to help 
decorate? While excitement is the easy path, apathy is the tough one. A 
person must suffer through many bad Christmases before he or she is 
able to stop caring altogethe, that is, REAlly stop caring.(Teenagers 
don't count, because they'll grow back into it) The true apathetic 
Scrooge-type is normally a career junkie between 25 and 35, whose 
parents, also a couple of career junkies, never spent time being merry 
and just plunked a few $100 gifts under the tree every Dec. 25. John 
Reiter could relate. His father was an electrical engineer and his 
mother was a real estate agent. They still are, actually, but he 
doesn't talk to them much with his 60-hour weeks writing for "Criminal 
Justice Today," a monthly magazine about socioeconomic trends in the 
American prison system. The 31-year-old reporter spent last christmas 
interviewing a man doing 8 years in prison for a rash of car thefts in 
Illinois. "I got nowhere else to be," the inmate kept saying, as the 
evening wore on. His no-frills outlook reinforced John's perspective 
that Christmas was nothing but blather. As this Christmas began it's 
approach, John prepared himself for more of the same, and he prepared 
himself, as always, not to care. Honestly, why care? It was this 
thought that preoccupied John as he drove home from the office at 
exactly 12:25 a.m. on Christmas Day. He had planned on a mug of eggnog 
and a porterhouse steak to commemorate the passing of another Yuletide. 
The food and drink were waiting in his fridge at home. Dinner went by 
the wayside as John's car hit a patch of black ice. the right front 
tire spun across the slick surface, and the steering wheel jerked out 
of his grip. The moon and stars above the empty road swung out of view 
as the car whumped into a tall snow bank and came to a stop. John 
looked down his body and glanced in the rearview mirror. He was fine. 
The only harm came to his car, which was half buried in a snow drift on 
some old country road. Louis Armstrong, Ray Charles, Vince Guaraldi and 
Nat King Cole had all sung songs on the radio before the tow truck 
arrived. He couldn't say why, but John felt obliged to listen to a 
little Christmas music while he waited. Hey, as long as I'm stuck here, 
he had thought. When those headlights came up from behind, John was 
elated. The end of another Chrismas was in sight. He would go home, 
have dinner and go the bed, commiting to memory yet another reason this 
was a terrible time of year. The tow truck driver tapped on the 
driver's side window with a gloved index finger. "Dwayne," read the 
name tag that peeked out from his heavy overcoat. He wore a wool hat,  
had an inky mustache, and his long face reminded John of those 
portraits of saints from certain church walls. This was a sad man. No 
matter, though, because it was time for John to go home. Soon, the car 
was hooked up to the wrecker and pulled from the side of the road. A 
large indentation in the snow drift was promptly filled in. As John 
reached for his wallet, Dwayne made a gentle contact with his arm. "No 
need" he said "Are you sure?" replied John.  "Yes I am sure.  Christmas 
is supposed to be a time of joy and happiness, not a time of paying 
your bills." Dwayne said. "Do you need a ride home?" John replied 
gratefuly, "Yes, That would be nice." On the way home they heard the 
song Jingle Bells played on the radio. "What does Christmas mean to 
you, I mean do you enjoy Christmas or is it just another day that you 
have to get through?",asked John.  "Christmas is one of the most 
speacial times of year for me. I get to be with my family and I get to 
feel God's love for me."Dwane replied. John was astonished. He'd never 
heard of all the great things about Christmas. "So, what is Christmas 
like for you?" Asked Dwane.  "You know what Dwayne." John said, "I 
think Christmas is the best day ever. I mean you get to see the smiling 
faces of children opening their gifts and everyone else always just 
seems so happy." John was amazed at what he said. John- the guy who 
hates Christmas- is now saying that Christmas is the best time of year. 
When John got home, he drank his eggnog and ate his porterhouse steak.  
Then he got on the phone with his parents. "Mom, Dad, I think I finally 
figured out what the real meaning of Christmas is.  Christmas isn't 
just another day that you have to live through, it is a day that should 
be shared with your family.   So why don't you come on over to my house 
and we could share the love of Christmas together. "  There was silence 
at the other end. Finally, there was a response, "Sweetie, I would love 


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