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|The Christmas Love (standard:drama, 1259 words)|
|Author: Chrissy||Added: Dec 12 2003||Views/Reads: 1848/1165||Story 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 Click here to read the rest of this story (27 more lines)
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