CHRISTMAS STORY # 3

"C" IS FOR "CHARLIE" .......Or Is It?

 Another busy day, a crazy day. It’s getting close to Christmas, and the errands are piling up. My job is computer-based, and the projects are keeping me very busy. The laundry never ends, the toys are never picked up, and the fridge is empty again. Next to the grocery list is a pile of mail that needs attending to, some jeans for the kids that need to be hemmed, and the bathroom floor could use some attention. All the while I think, where will we find time to set up a tree and decorate? With a two-year-old and a four-year-old, things are getting hectic. The four-year-old is in pre-school, and loves it so much she cries when she has to leave. The two-year-old is used to following her big sister around, so she thinks she can stay at pre-school too, and cries all the way home when we tell her she can’t. It’s a stressful start to most days, and today was no different. However, time passes very quickly, and before you know it, it’s time to pick up our little girl. On the way, I’ll get a few groceries, gas up the car, and pick up Daddy. Thank heavens he can wait with the kids while I run into the bank for a minute.

 It’s a Friday afternoon, quite close to Christmas, and of course everyone seems to be in a rush. The perfectly decorated Christmas tree in the corner still has little white envelopes attached; those who wish can choose one, and it will contain suggestions for a gift for a child in need. I always feel that little twinge that says I should take one, but I know that my husband’s work place provides Christmas for a local family in need, and our children and I help out with that. That doesn’t stop me from always wishing I could do more, but on this busy afternoon, I have to keep myself organized, and I have to tell myself how lucky I am that at least for this year, I’m not on that list. All the tellers have long lines, the instant teller outside never stops, so I just patiently wait my turn.

 As I glance around, I don’t see anyone I recognize, and most of the customers are lost in thought, or checking their cellphones, or making sure they have the correct documents for their transactions. In front of me stands a tall mature gentleman, maybe seventy years old or so, and he, like the rest of us, is waiting patiently.

 “Are you from around here dear?” The gentleman had turned to me, and started a conversation.

 “No, actually I’m from up East.” I thought that might be the end of it, but he answered, “Oh really, so am I. What part?”

 “I grew up in the Souris area,” I answered, and he got quite interested. “So did I, what is your name, dear?”

 I told him my maiden name, and he laughed and said “That’s my name too! I’m Charlie, but I moved away from the Island when I was very young. I joined the Navy, then worked in the Yards until I retired. “ He stopped for a minute, dug in his pocket, and took out a snow white hanky. He unfolded it, took off his glasses, wiped them, and carefully tucked the hanky back in his pocket. “Back then, I knew a couple of lads, named Jim and Louie, same last name as mine, but I don’t think we were related, although you never know.”

 Well, that’s strange, I thought, but I answered him, “That’s my grandfather. My dad grew up out on the North Side.” “Is that so,” he said thoughtfully, then asked “Who was your Mom , dear?” Well, I knew when I told him that it would get interesting, because my Mom’s maiden name is a common one, and everybody knows her. I hesitated and leaned from one foot to the other, still thinking of all the other errands that needed running before I got home, and it looked like supper would be late. Again.

 At this point the line has moved quickly, and we are almost at the counter, but the gentleman is still turned in my direction, still curious. When I told him Mom’s name , he said “No! Really? Does she know Joe and Eddie and that bunch? Somewhere along the line I’m related to them, my mother’s side I think.” I answered that yes, I thought so. What were the odds that this stranger would actually know my parents, and I thought this conversation was getting a little far-fetched. Also, my husband was still out in the car with two cranky and hungry little girls, so I was wishing this line would hurry up and move. Since he seemed so interested, I said “I don’t suppose you remember a certain dance hall out in the Souris area? The Black Rafter?“ When I named it, he kind of looked off in the distance and said slowly, “Yes, I sure do remember it. A lot of my youth was spent there, that was the place everybody went to, we sure had a lot of fun. What great music, what great memories. “ I told him that my Grandfather had built it, my mother’s father, and he answered, “Yes, I remember him, but I got around with a young fellow by the name of Walter, and if my memory serves me right, he went into the Service too. The Navy, I’m sure, but as I said, I’ve been gone a long time, and I’ve lost touch with just about everyone. “ Well, I knew right then and there, that I was probably related to this gentleman on both sides, because Walter was my Mom’s uncle, and there was no way this gentleman could have known so many details about my parents’ families unless he had actually known some of them.

 I didn’t have time to think about it anymore, because Charlie was now at the head of the line, and the teller was performing his transaction. As he finished, he wished her a hearty Merry Christmas, and turned to go. I moved up next, and I looked up to say a quick good bye to him, but he stopped and reached out to touch my arm. “I am so happy to have met you today. Seems strange that we have so many people in common, we must be related. Isn’t that something? I want to wish you and your family the very merriest Christmas. When you have little children the ages of your two little girls, that is when Christmas is the most fun. Take care, dear.” I wished him the same, and turned to pass the teller my papers. Out the corner of my eye, something white fluttered, and I realized that Charlie had dropped his handkerchief. Quickly, I bent to pick it up, and noticed a beautifully embroidered “C” in the corner. I turned to pass it to him, but as I looked around he was already gone. Wow, that was fast, but I thought the teller might be able to help me. I knew his name, and I thought she might have a number or address where we could drop it off on our way home. She said “That’s not the name of the gentleman who was in line ahead of you. Far from it. And I’m sorry, but confidentiality prevents me from giving out any personal information about our clients. You understand.” And with that, she stamped my payment, and waited patiently for me to leave.

 I had no option but to keep moving, so with the hanky still in my hand, I left the bank and made my way to the car. I felt as if I was in a daze, and I was glad my husband was driving. What had just happened in there?

 “Did you get everything done? Anywhere else you need to go?” my husband asked, and as he glanced at me, he said “Are you alright? Geez, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

 I mumbled something about just go home, but I wasn’t paying much attention. My mind was racing. Supper and bathtime went by quickly, and Daddy put the girls to bed. When all was quiet, I told him about my encounter. As I repeated all the details, about Charlie’s last name being the same as mine, and how he seemed to know or be related to so many of my relatives, I realized that my husband was going to think it all sounded a little sketchy. When I heard myself saying it all out loud, it did seem a bit far fetched. I told him about what the teller said, that his name was not what he said it was, and I saved the best for the last. “I know it all sounds a little odd, and most people wouldn’t give it all another thought. But tell me this: when he wished me a Merry Christmas, he distinctly mentioned our two little girls. How would he have known that? I never once mentioned anything about kids. We weren’t chatting that long, it was a bank line-up, and I don’t get too personal with strangers. Are you going to tell me that was a coincidence? I just don’t know what to make of it.”

 My husband was quiet for a few seconds, then he answered, “ Well, I don’t know, honey. It does sound a little coincidental, but your family does have an awful lot of connections around here. You’ve been really busy here lately, and you must be tired. It’s been a long day. Why don’t you just forget about it and go to bed early? We meet strangers every day, this was just a little stranger than usual.”

 I guess that wasn’t the words of wisdom I was looking for, and he must have seen it on my face, because then he laughed and added, “What? You don’t suppose that was Santa, do you?”

 Well, after the look I shot him, he decided that he better be the one to go to bed early. That suited me fine, because I needed time to think it all through. As I moved around my pretty house, picking up toys, and setting things straight, I realized how very blessed I was. Healthy children in their beds, jobs for both my husband and me, wonderful families to turn to when needed. We had a car to drive, oil for our furnace, food in our freezer. How lucky we are, I thought.

 As for my husband’s choice of words, was it possible that he was right? Was it a chance encounter with a very nice, sincere old gentleman, or was there more to it? Saying that he knew my Mom’s uncle was one thing, but I hadn’t mentioned a thing about children. How did he know that I had two little girls? That nagged at me.

 I reached into my pocket and took out the carefully folded handkerchief. I opened it up, and stared at the beautiful “C” in the corner. It was stitched in a gold metallic thread, and it just glowed. “C” was for Charlie, I guess, or was it? Was it for Claus? Either way, I’ll never know, but I do know that this lovely hankie will become a very special part of my Christmas from now on. Every time I look at it, I will remember a chance meeting with a stranger, in a very busy place, on a very busy day. He took the time out of his day to make a connection with me, and it prompts me to take some time, no matter how busy I think I am, to count my blessings at this wonderful time of year.

 I folded the hankie back up, and placed it carefully on a branch of my Christmas tree. The lights caught the shiny metallic gold thread of the embroidery, and the glow seemed to follow me as I went about my work. I just smiled, and sent up a silent thought, “Thanks, Charlie.”