Dangling in the edge to nowhere
The turbulent frigid waters of the river flowing downstream at a fast space beckoned with an evil invitation at the anguished man staring downwards with a gloomy look in his face, casting a hypnotic spell towards a man with no will to live beholding what seemed to be the only way out. It would all be over in a matter of minutes if not seconds, so he reasoned. Perched atop the small fence of the bridge that separated him from what he thought in his turbulent judgement, as turbulent as the vortices of the water rushing down there, he beheld what seemed to be the only way out amidst his despair, knowing full well that his time of reckoning had come. Making a last herculean effort to overcome his fears, he did what he was planning to do all along, let himself fall into the murky waters by letting himself go with his arms wide open.
But he didn’t fall as he wanted. Just in the nick of time, something slided near his neck into the back of his shirt, something pulling him back in a delicate balancing act while his own weight pulled him towards the river.
There was something holding him back, yes, keeping him in a precarious balance between life and death, with the tips of his toes balancing over the edge of the fence. But what was it? A voice coming from behind provided a partial answer.
-My dear sir, you cannot jump to take a swim, at least not yet.
-A swim?- replied the would-be suicide with a surprise look in his face. -Are you kidding? I was not planning to take a swim. Youn don’t understand. Nobody understands. Please leave me alone.
-Considering the height from here to there, it would be quite a splash, worthy of two colums in the local newspapers.
-Two columns?
-Yes. One for the news of the jump itself, and the other one for the obituary.
A sturdy middle-aged well-dressed man held him back while holding him in a steady position by grasping tightly the other end of the cane with which he was holding the man who was about to jump, a smiling bloke who seemingly came out of nowhere.
-Please let go. Let go! Whatever I do, it is my decision.
-Nevertheless, still you cannot jump- added the stranger while keeping him from falling with the arched tip of his cane tucked into the back of his shirt.
-Why not?- replied the man as he balanced precariously on the ledge of the bridge.
-Because it’s very cold down there. Besides, there might be a shark lurking below the surface.
The eyes of the man opened wide in amazement as he fired back:
-A shark, in this inland river, in the middle of the city? You have got to be kidding.
-Likewise, you have got to be kidding in order to go ahead with your plans. And about the shark, you can take it as a joke.
-A joke? I must be dreaming. Please let me go, I beg you.
-I insist, you cannot jump.
-Why not?
-Not before we have tasted some of the freshly baked muffins available at pastry outlet over the corner while sipping some warm tea, and by the looks of it, it’s been some time since you last filled your belly.
-Have I lost my mind? Are you a figment of my imagination?
-If I let go, you would then surely realize, even for a few minutes or a few seconds prior to drowning and your lifeless corpse being carried away by the vortices of this almost overflowing river, that I am as real as the air you are breathing and the tip of this cane that is holding you back keeping you from plunging into a wet and dreary finale.
-Are you trying to make me change my mind?
-Something better. I’m going to put an end to this.
-Wait, hold on, please, I beg you- pleaded the man, as if second thoughts had been crossing his mind while dangling in the edge of that bridge fence.
-We can’t be in this silly stand-off forever. Besides, I have other things to do. So, get ready...
-No, please, I beg you...
Suddenly, With a strong pull, the man was pulled back, and he would have fallen face up on the inner sideway of the bridge had it not been for the smiling man who caught him in his arms just in time. Putting him back on his feet, he added:
-There, I hope you won’t climb back over the edge of that fence. Or will you?
Unable to hide a momentary sigh of relief, even finding some comfort in the respite handed down by destiny, he replied:
-I don’t know.
-You don’t know? Are you out of your wits? Even Houdini himself would not be able to slide away from the treachearous waters of this river. What will it take to make you come back to your senses?
-You caught me by surprise. I never expected to have this kind of encounter precisely on this day.
-There is something better than taking a dive into the netherworld of those murky waters. By the way, have you eaten anything at all? It is unjustifiable to do such things with an empty stomach. No man should die with an empty stomach. At the very least every man should have his last meal before taking his last breath, instead of betraying his entrails by denying them the good nourishment they are entitled to before they pass away with their owner.
-I haven’t eaten anything in three days.
-Well, in that case, let’s go over to that pastry outlet I told you about, where they bake really good muffins. You will get a chance to appease your belly in a matter of minutes. The meal is on me.
-I... I don’t know what to say.
-Here, come with me. Just let your belly speak on your behalf. I’m sure your belly will not object. A good meal will give you some time to think everything over. And while we chat, you might wish to tell me about the reasons that led you to such a dire decision. Perhaps your situation is not as bad as you might think. Perhaps there might be some hope. And if you insist in carrying out your fould deed against yourself, at least you will not go hungry to the netherworld.
-I... I... Very well, I’ll take you up on your offer, Mister...
-Just call me Timothy. And your name is...?
-Alfred. Alfred Wilkins.
-Glad to meet you, and doubly glad to have met you before you had a chance to take that jump.
As the two men walked towards the pastry shop, dancing snowflakes waved by the wind began to fall dusting the lanes of the city with a white blanket dimly reflecting the christmas lights blinking on some of the shops that were still open, creating a winter wonderland as some of the shops began to close early to let their employees be with their families for the holidays.
Just as promised, the stranger who called himself Timothty ordered some of the biggest and most delicious muffins that Alfred had eaten in his life, settling down for some warm chocolate instead of the anticipated cup of tea. Still with a semblance of sadness in his face, the man called Alfred rose from his chair saying at the same time:
-Mister Timothy. I thank you for your kindness, but I have to be on my way.
-Where to? Back to that bridge?
-Not right now, but perhaps...
-Do you have a place to go? Do you have a place where to stay?
-Yes and no.
-Yes and no? I am not following you.
-I have a humble home near the outskirts of the city. But after losing my carpenter’s shop in a fire about three months ago, with very little savings that were used them up in order to keep feeding my wife and my small daughter Clara, in two more days we are to be evicted by the landlord and thrown into the street. Without any money, and without any means of sustenance. the only thing left for us is to end up as beggars on the streets. And precisely in the eve of Christmas! I could not take it any longer, I was terrified at the thought of living in the streets surviving on charities, coming to the conclusion that my wife and my daughter would be better off without me.
-My goodness! And having a wife and a daughter you were planning to carry out your woeful deed?
-Mister Timothy, I believe you do not know what it means to live in desperation, what it means to wake up each day feeling forsaken by those around us.
-Quite the contrary. I have seen the face of desperation in many people, I have seen in their semblances the true meaning of what it means to be near the breaking point. Fortunately, I have the privilege of heading a trust fund that was set up years ago to help people in need.
-People like myself?
-All kinds of people, from all walks of life. We can’t help as many as we wish we could, but those we can help we will help, you can take my word for it.
-Is that so?
-Come, lad. Enough of this. Let us part and go to some other place were we can find some good spirits.
-Were are we going? To a nearby local pub?
-No, to the place were I work.
The two men started walking with a steady pace along the lanes of the city as wee tots harking from the windows of their homes at the chants being sung by the carolers on the sidewalks enlightened the december joy settling upon the city. Finally they arrived at a building displaying on a big sign at its entrance:
EBENEEZER SCROOGE
FOUNDATION FOR MANKIND
A few mellow companions
Upon arrival, Timothy entered with Alfred into a hall where the warmth of the heating system was in sharp contrast to the ubiquitous presence of Jack Frost out in the streets. Inside the building, the people seemed to be in a festive mood decking the halls with boughs of holly being turned into giant festoons by the magic of skillful hands, while festive holiday music escaped from the phonograph tucked in a corner. The preparations for a Christmas party were well underway. From among those supervising the final arrangements, a man by the name of Peter sprung up greeting both men. The exhilaration displayed was more befitting of boys and girls than of grown ups young at heart grasping with glee every single moment of the occasion, leaving behind whateve worries they may have carried with them when they woke up and their working day started.
-Why, Mister Timothy! What a surprise! We were all expecting you. There are some pending issues that need your authorization and go-ahead.
-Greetings, Peter. Excuse me for being a little bit late, but I had to attend some other business while I was out. As usual for this time of the year, on the streets there were some caroling groups humming some of the melodies so familiar to us, and also couples wandering through the city with some of them perhaps making plans to tie the knot next year, there were also children building up their own versions of Frosty the snowman in the meadows as well as in the front yards of their homes, and as always the usual assortment of late shoppers, the last-minute procrastinators hurrying up for their last day of Christmas shopping. Everything part of our modern version of olden days some of us remember from our very early childhood. Those were the days when some people on the countryside still used open sleighs to dash through glistening snow and street gas lamps in the city had not yet been replaced with the yellow shine of electric light bulbs, when charming young women waved with their hands covered with woolen mittens when they met acquaintances in the parks as they skated over the icy layers of frozen lakes.
-They still do, they still do.
-By the way, What are those pending issues that need to be resolved requiring my authorization?
-Well, there is the loan that was made to Mrs. Langley. She is very worried because she can only pay about eigthy percent of the interest that was due this month on her loan.
Without giving it a second thought, Timothy exclaimed:
-Tell her not to worry, we certainly don’t want to spoil her happiness in this time of the year. Tell her that whatever needs rewriting, whatever that needs to be refinanced or done in the books in order to accomodate to her current needs will be done. I’m sure she will do her very best not to let us down, and in return we will do our very best not to let her down at this point in time. We will keep on giving her all the help we can give her.
-There is also Mark Sanders.
-The farmer whom we helped after losing most of his harvest to the locust and also losing all of his livestock to the terrible disease in his cattle that nearly brought him to his financial ruin?
-The same one.
-What about him?
-He had a bountiful harvest, and with commodities in his field soaring, he dropped in to say that not only he was ready to repay his loan in full, he also wants to become one of our donors starting with a generous contribution, so we can help others in their time of need just as we helped him while he was facing his distress.
-Very well. Anything else?
How will we handle the annual contribution we are to give this year to the orphanages that depend on us?
-Let me think... Yes, I believe we have enough liquidity to give the orphanages twenty per cent more than what we gave them last year. But on one condition...
-What will be the condition?
-Each kid in those orphanages is to be given a big Christmas sugar candy cane in our behalf, together with a gingerbread cookie like the ones made by Mrs. Johnson.
-I’m sure they will be more than delighted to carry out your behest.
-There is one last thing.
-Yes?
-First, allow me to introduce to you a new friend of mine by the name of Alfred.
-very pleased to meet you, sir.
-The pleasure is mine- replied Alfred.
-Alfred here lost his carpenter’s shop about three months ago, and his family will have no place where to stay since they are to be evicted two days from now by their unforgiving landlord...
-That landlord would not happen to be that old scoundrel Mister Henry, would he?
-I don’t know that yet, Alfred hasn’t given me that information, but I would not be amazed if indeed he turned out to be Mister Henry. Perhaps some day someone will visit him to give him a well deserved reprimand or a spanking in order to make him come into his wits before it is too late. Perhaps some day he will get his share of hauntings with visions of ghosts armed with a sledgehammer strong enough to touch his heart. Who knows? He could end up joining us if such a thing were to happen.
-Perhaps during the night, perhaps in Chistmas eve?
-Perhaps- chuckled Timothy-. In the meantime let’s see what we can do in order to help Alfred and his family.
-Don’t you worry, I’ll see what I can do for them. Consider it done.
-I know I can count on you.
Approaching Alfred, Peter took out a pencil from the pocket of his shirt and a very small notebook he carried on another pocket:
-Alfred... you don’t mind if I just call you Alfred?
-Not at all.
-I need some information from you.
-Such as?
-Your name in full, the address of the place where you live with your wife and daughter, the name of your wife, the name of your daughter, the place where you used to have your carpentry shop before it burned, and some other minor details.
-Very well, I will go right here over all the information you need from me.
Jotting down diligently all the data given to him by Alfred, Peter gathered all the information he needed while Timothy, always smiling, sent his gaze from one place to another, enjoying the Christmas preparations being carried out by those who laboured with him at the Ebeneezer Scrooge Foundation for Mankind, until Peter was done.
-There, I have all the information I need from Alfred. I will now make a few phone calls and ask one of our workers to follow up on whatever needs to be cheked up.
-That’s my Peter! I know you can take care of requests such as this one in spite of the fact that it will soon be Christmas day.
-It is always uplifting to do things like these precisely when Christmas is approaching.
-Better hurry up before the evening keeps on waning. I believe it’s almost a quarter till seven.
-As they say, time flies when you’re having fun.
-Is Howard ready with his usual magic tricks for the party?
-Yes. He has put special emphasis on a rope trick that according to him will surpass the dancing dolls illusion he carried out last year, and I might add that we are still trying to figure out how he did that one.
-What about Jerry? We can’t do without his jokes and repartee. If we are going to die someday, what a better way to go than to die laughing after some quips made at the expense of Adolph.
-He has new jokes ready to go. But Adolph will be left in peace, it will now be the turn of William to endure the wits of Jerry.
-Wonderful! Then we are almost set to go, just as planned.
-Just as planned. The rest of all of the fun and games, as well as the usual musical chairs, will be on us.
-In that case, I will take some time off for other things that need to be attended.
A somber errand
Timothy reached for his watch, realizing upon looking at the hour of the day that there was yet another thing he wanted to share with Alfred before the evening turned into night. Before departing, Timothy came close to Peter’s left ear where he whispered some words while Peter nodded his head acknowledging some of the other things he would be doing in Timothy’s absence. Finally, Timothy said goodbye by bowing slightly and adding:
-Dont’t forget to prepare the Christmas gift for that little person we want to surprise when I come back. I won’t be out for long, I’ll come back soon enought in order not to miss anything.
-Will do, Sir, will do.
Turning towards Alfred, Timothy told him:
-Come, my dear chap, let’s take another walk.
-Where to?- replied the intrigued Alfred.
-Oh, let it be a surprise from which we might be able to pick up some lesson in life. Afterwards we will return here so we can have a good time with all of the people you see here. Let’s be on our way. But before we go out, you might wish to wrap this around your neck, for it’s getting somewhat chilly outside.
Timothy handed a scarf over to Alfred and waited for a few seconds while Alfred covered his neck before Timothy opened the door.
Once in the street, Alfred gingerly followed Timothy not knowing what to expect, not knowing what might come next. It was not as if he had any mistrust of Timothy. After all, he had proven to be quite a gentleman. It was just this uneasy feeling of what comes next, it was just a heightened uncertainty of what could lie ahead. Alfred had not the least idea of where Timothy was taking him, but he knew he could trust his new friend. After all, it was the man who had kept him from taking the fatal jump he intended to take.
As they strode farther and farther away, they encountered a wandering beggar holding a metal cup in his right hand who approached them while repeating over and over the same rhymes accompanied with the same tune:
Christmas is a coming, and the geese are getting fatTimothy reached for his wallet, retrieving what seemed to be a sterling pound, hastily dropping it in the metal cup. The surprised alms solicitor could barely contain his excitement when he saw the charity that had been deposited by the stranger in his metal cup, exclaiming filled with emotion:
would you care to put a penny in a poor man's hat
If you haven’ t got a penny, then a hate penny will do
If you haven’ t got a hate penny, may God bless you!
God bless you, gentlemen, God bless you!
If you haven’ t got a hate penny, may God bless you!
Christmas is a coming, and the lights are on the tree.
How about a turkey leg for poor old me?
If you haven’ t got a turkey leg, a turkey wing will do.
If you haven’ t got a turkey wing may God bless you!
God bless you, gentlemen, God bless you!
If you haven't got a thing for me, may God bless you!
God bless you, gentlemen, God bless you!
-Why, thank you very much, Sir! Thank you very much! Much obligued! May your days be filled with joy, and may the Lord reward your kind generosity a thousandfold. Merry Christmas to you both!
Almost jumping with joy, the lucky beggar continued with his errant itinerary dissapearing into the streets. Alfred could not refrain himself from asking:
-You gave him... that much?
Timothy replied:
-Well, it is not that much, compared to other things you can give a stranger, like giving him back his life.
Alfred remained silent as he understood that the munificent man who generously gave such a generous Christmas gift to a destitute and most certainly homeless beggar had also given on the same day to Alfred a new lease on life. Breaking the silence as they both continued their journey, Timothy spoke:
-There is an old tale coming from the East Indies that goes as follow. There was this man who all his life lived in the most excruciating poverty you can imagine. He couldn’t remember a single day in his life when he didn’t feel the pangs of hunger. Day after day his life was like a punishment begotten from a karma from a previous life. Ten thousand days he had lived. But in one of those days, something happened. As he threaded through a valley, a wealthty merchant who was passing by crossed his path, and when he saw him he took pity on the poor man, and unpacking some of his wares he gave the poor man the best feast he could ever had dreamed of in his entire life. The hungry man was given dates moistened with honey, pecans sprinkled with sugar, roasted pieces of the most delicious bread he had ever smelled in his life, and many other things. The merchant continued with his trek, while the poor man, no longer hungry, was so satiated that he couldn’t eat anything else for several days, with his hunger quenched completely. He did not encounter that merchant again, and another ten thousand days passed without receiving such a feast as the one he had that day. Yet, the day he passed away, he did so with a smile on his face. Of the twenty thousand and one days he had lived, can you guess what was the day he remembered the most?
-I would assume none of the days he lived in hunger. I would assume that just that one single day was the day that made up for all the others, that was the day he would not have wanted to forget, ever.
-So what would be the moral of the story?
-That even if you cannot help every day a certain person in need, the memories that person will take with him at the end of his journey will be the ones that made life worth living.
-Exactly. That is precisely the lesson to be learned from the sages of those far away places who have much to teach us.
The lights of the city became dimmer and dimmer as Timothy and Alfred kept on going farther ahead, covering quite a distance even for such a big city. The dwellings and buildings became smaller as shades of the countryside manifested themseleves ever more prominently. Where was Timothy taking him? The narrow lanes became wider as the walked by what appeared to be a vast terrain dotted with slabs of stone protruding from the ground. The visibility was somewhat reduced, due in part to the hour of the day, and due in part to the lack of street lights shining upon the road they were travelling. At some point, Timothy pushed gently a metal gate that marked the entrance to a place unknown to Alfred, stepping into what seemed liked a silent familiar realm. The face of Alfred turned almost pale as he realized that the place into which he had been taken by his saviour was a cemetery, the domain of death itself.
-What is your purpose in bringing me here?- asked a scared Alfred as his pace slowed down while walking across the tombstones.
-Actually, there are two purposes in our coming here. Don’t be hasty. In due time you will find out, with my help, some things I want you to ponder before we go anywhere else. There! We have reached the first site we are to visit here.
They both walked to some recently dug up hole. Being a cemetery, there was no doubt now in the mind of Alfred about the nature of the hole. It was to be the resting place of someone. It was a grave.
-What is going on here? What is this?
-Haven’t you figured it out yet?
-No, I haven’t the foggiest idea.
-Do you really want to know what this is?
-I already know that. It is an empty grave. But, whose grave is it?
-Why... it’s YOURS!
The bottomless pit
With a soft but strong hand, Alfred was pushed suddenly by his companion straight into the pit. Into his grave.
-What the...?- exclaimed the astounded man as he fell downwards into the obscure little abyss.
-Are you feeling confortable down there?- exclaimed his companion with a smirk while Alfred layed flat in his face in a horizontal position.
-If this is a joke, I find your joke quite disgusting.
-You may find all this disgusting, where it not for the fact that as you lie down there you can appreciate the fact that you are still alive.
-You just said this is MY grave.
-Well, it most certainly would have been your grave today, and today you could have been just one more statistic lost in the police records. But this grave will have to wait for someone else. For the time being, your name is off the scrolls of the grim reaper.
-And...?
-If I had not pulled you back the other day from the ledge from which you were ready to jump into darkness, rest assured that this very place, this recently dug grave, would have been your final resting place. And you would not be talking from me from down there as you are doing so right now. Are you still angry at me?
-What do you expect me to say, after this disrespectful lack of courtesy on your part, after throwing me into this hole?
The smile in Timothy’s face went away, replaced by a stern look, while saying:
-Forget about me for just a few minutes. Just close your eyes and imagine for just those few minutes that indeed you were sucessful in taking away your own life. Imagine yourself in total darkness while you lie right there.
A chill took over Alfred as he did as he was told.
-Now, while lying there in total darkness, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to wander around, imagine your wife and small daughter out in the street, out in the cold, hungry, crying, all alone, without any hope, without your companionship. Your wife is now a widow, your daughter is now an orphan. And you are not there to help them out. If while being alive you felt lost unable to help them, now that you are dead you are really unable to help them, to the full extent of the word. You cannot hug and kiss your wife, you cannot hug and kiss your little princess, now or ever. You have lost forever your power to help them.
Suddenly, Alfred was terrified, as he had never been terrified before, with the windmills of his mind evoking a whirlwind of everlasting moments in his life both good and bad buried deep inside but not fully forgotten, some of which had made his life worth living. Summoning these dreamlike instants by sheer will power alone could have been as easy as trying to catch a falling star, yet under this most unusual circumstance they seemed to come back spontaneously as if they had a life of their own, Like the one of the that day when he first fell in love, like the one of that day when received his first kiss, like the one of a typical day when he used to take strolls at Piccadilly listening to the sounds of an accordion entertaing the strollers, taking a joy ride in a ferry boat at Liverpool, catching a glimpse of a changing of the guard at Windsor palace, intertwining a steady stream of canvasses capturing in living colors everything down to the last minute detail. It was as if a big mirror had been placed just in front of him, where he could glance one by one the snapshots rapidly being stacked one after another, starting with the picture of a little orphan growing up in Devonshire under the lashes of a whip maneuvered by his stern stepfather, followed by the pictures of a young boy growing up as a helping hand in a farm, followed by the picture of a man falling in love with a peasant girl named Stephanie, followed by the picture of a man and his wife welcoming into the world a little baby whom they named Clara, followed by the picture of them both celebrating the birthday of their offspirng under a light drizzle as they went to Church, and lastly followed by the dreaded picture of a humble carpentry shop burning to the ground, followed by the cries of the little girl named Clara after going two days without having eaten anything finally followed in turn by one last picture, the picture of a lifeless body being recovered by a rescue team as the now widowed Stephanie and the now orphaned Clara cried without stopping.
The thought of departing from this world in the way he had planned out of sheer desperation, tearing his family apart, gave him the shivers as the shadowy darkness of the recently dugged grave engulfed his vision with a feeling of despair he had never felt before. Above, Timothy could only fathom slightly the reflections that were overcoming the mind of Alfred, but he could very well guess a few of the barrage of images assaulting the deepest inner core of a man whose time of repentance had come.
-Things dont’t look the same from down there as they look from up here. Do they?
A million thoughts assaulted Alfred at the same time. As he remained down there, at the bottom of what could have been his grave, he became conscious of the consequences of what in sheer desperation he attempted to do. He also became conscious of the fact that, by some miraculous chance, it was not to be, he was given a second chance handed down by an upper power, and most likely there would not be a third chance.
-Please, take me out of here. I can take no more of this- cried Alfred.
Timothy regained his uSUal optimistic smile:
-Today you can take this day as a new beginning. And please remember that the next time you try to jump into a land of nowhere there might not be anyone around to pull you back, and you will be in a pit just like this one from which you will be powerless to help or give any comfort to those you leave behind.
Lowering his arm in order to help the would-be-suicide out of his would-be-grave, once out Timothy continued:
-Now come with me, let us visit the resting place of a man beloved by many of us who still remember him with fondness.
They both walked among the tombstones for what seemed to be a long distance, until they reached a site where Timothy stopped, with his finger pointing straight at a well preserved grave. The tombstone read:
HERE LIES EBENEEZER SCROOGE
A KIND MAN TRUE TO HIS WORD
BELOVED BY THOSE WHO KNEW HIM
MISSED BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
A SOUL TO BE REMEMBERED
NOW IN THE COMPANION OF ANGELS
AND IN THE MERCY OF THE LORD.
-Who was this man?-asked Alfred.
-You don’t know who Mister Ebeneezer Scrooge was?
-I have lived hand-to-mouth most of my life, without the benefit of a daily newspaper, and I am ignorant of all the events taking place in this big city as well as the personalities who shine in the spotlight.
-In that case, I will fill you in on some of the details about the honourable Mister Ebeneezer Scrooge to whom I myself owe everything, including my very life.
Kneeling just a little bit in order to touch with his fingers the marble tombstone of a man who seemed to evoke in Timothy the deepest respect, he began to weave some thoughts as his eyes began to blur with visions of yore:
-After passing away at a ripe old age, when Mister Scrooge was laid to rest right here his gravestone was covered with flowers deposited by some of the many grateful people he helped when he was alive. He made this world much better than what it is today, including me, and you might say that indirectly thanks to him I was able to save you the other day when you had taken the inexcusable decision to take away your own life.
Struggling to keep a tear from flowing through his eyes, Timothy added:
-Today, I am alive thanks to him. I was a frail weakling with worsening health month after month whose crutches were his daily companions from the moment I woke up until the moment I went to sleep. But then as a godsend Mister Scrooge came into my life, sending me to some of the best physicians in London, and after almost a year of therapies my ailments were gone, and I have never fallen back again into ill health. What’s more, Mister Scrooge planned with my family a welcome party I will never forget. But the very best, undoubtedly, was the companionship of Mister Scrooge himself, who was like a second father to me.
A deep melancholy and longing for times gone by briefly deprived Timothy of his perennial smile, as happy remembrances crossed his mind in a series of flashbacks he kept to himself, grasping from out of nowhere some precious time which Alfred did not dare to take away, gently moving his fingers in the air as if fondly caressing a toy from his childhood years.
-Mister Scrooge, God bless his soul, was one of the most kind and gentle persons you could ever encounter. He did not use to be like that, but one Christmas eve he was touched by the spirit of Christmas, so he told to all those who knew him, and he more than made up for whatever improprieties he had done in the past. When he passed away, hundreds of people of all ages attended his funeral, and many commoners remember him with fondness. As a good businessman, he was able to garner a considerable fortune in his lifetime, but that fortune was put to good use by helping many, by helping those in need. He wanted to help and rescue all those he could while he had the power to help others, and even before he passed away he set up a trust fund bearing his name and set in motion a non-profit foundation also bearing his name, enabling his many friends and admirers with his goodwill gesture to continue with his quest to help those in need. Undaunted by the enormity of the task that laid ahead, Mister Scrooge set out to give of himself all his time and energies becoming a balm and a beacon of hope for those less fortunate than him. My dad was the first one to join him in his efforts, and then other people came to help him in his good deeds and noble efforts, including many volunteers springing up from among those he rescued. In the absence of Mister Ebeneezer Scrooge, it was my dad, the main trustee of the Scrooge Endowment Fund, who continued to carry the blessings of the charitable work begun by Mister Scrooge, and when my father passed away I was appointed to continue with the mission begun back then.
Both stood guard for a few minutes looking at the resting place of a good Samaritan who surely had been an outstanding philantropist, judging from the words on the epitaph and the care with which it had been taken care of.
-Come Alfred, it’s time for us to go.
Alfred remained mute. He had undergone a crushing experience, a life-changing experience. Somehow he knew that things for him would not be the same from here on. It was now time to turn the page and move forward. He did not even dare to ask Timothy where they might be heading next, just leaving the cemetery was good enough.
Back at the Foundation
The preparations for the Christmas reunion were almost complete, with the last sheet of the almanace almost ready to be pulled out in just one week. The laughter and joy were contagious, and the spirit of Christmas seemed to have taken hold on the souls gathered for yet another unforgettable reunion crowned with a scrumptious feast and the long-awaited prancing to take place at the empty space reserved as a dance hall for the occasion. The embers in the chimney provided the warmth needed to forget about the gelid winds blowing outside. There was a big Christmas tree in a corner of the hall, decorated with silver bells, shiny multicolored spheres and sugar-coated angels and cherubs hanging on the branches of the tree, with the traditional Bethlehem star placed at the top and some or the green pine needles dusted with powdered gypsum resembling specks of recently fallen snow, as well as many gift-wrapped boxes at the bottom with the names of each one of the intended recipients displayed on an envelope holding a Christmas greetings card. The rather long dinner table assembled for the gathering from smaller tables was richly decorated with gingerbread cookies, miniature chocolate elves, Poinsettia flowers and Victorian style dinnerware proper for the annual Christmas reunion of those who worked tirelessly year-round at the foundations helping those in need. The everlasting presence of nutcracker soldiers stood guard near bowls filled to the rim with pecans ready to be cracked open by the jaws of the soldiers, mixed with a variety of other nuts, raisins and dried fruit. A four-layered cake topped with a circle of cherries was prominently displayed in the middle of the table alongside three recently roasted turkeys whose smell was the best appetizer of them all, with sets of candlelights evenly placed from beginning to end and empty sparkling glasses awaiting the pouring of Sherry wine. A mistletoe hanged from the ceiling, just in case.
Timothy opened the door accompanied by this guest, making his entrance known in one of his many usual manners:
-God rest ye merry gentlemen and ladies, may the season bring tidings of comfort and joy to you and to us all.
The people inside the building welcomed Timothy and Alfred with a mixture of greetings and blessings.
-Come with me, Alfred. The party is about to start. I wish to introduce you to some of my friends who have gathered here for the festive occasion in which we celebrate one more anniversary of the arrival of Our saviour Lord at Bethlehem.
-I fear my presence here might not be so uplifting to these kind folks. I’m still somewhat agitated by some of the things I have gone through out there. Perhaps it would be better if I left. I want to see my wife Stephanie and my little princess Clara whom need me now more than ever at their side.
-Don’t worry about that, trust me. By tomorrow when the Sun rises you will see things from a different perspective. This is not a time to be disheartened, Alfred. On the contrary. Let us lift our spirits. Let us rejoice at the fact that soon we will be witnessing the start of a new year, offering new opportunities, offering new possibilities, offering renewed hopes for all of us.
-Including me?
-Yes, including you.
-And as for the slum from which you are to be evicted soon by your landlord, that old screw, I’m more than pleased to tell you that we have found temporary sheltering for you which you will find more becoming than the deplorable shanty which you and your family had to endure. You will go back there, but only to pick up your things and say farewell for good to the miserable dwelling which was partly to blame for your depression.
-Where will I be going?
-We will let you know later, after we have lightened up ourseleves with the Christmas party you see in progress.
-And my wife and daughter?
-They will be living with you in the temporary shelter until you are installed in a more permanent place, of course. You will not be separated from them. Destiny did not want you to be separated from them, not before when I found you on that bridge, and certainly not now.
A beautiful lady with auburn hair and a white dress and a pink sash about the waist who was holding a Pomeranian curled up in her arms approached Timothy, welcoming him with a soft tender kiss in his lips.
-Alfred, may I present to you Margaret, my wife Margaret.
-Pleased to meet you, madam.
-My pleasure, Mister...
-Alfred Wilkins, just call me Alfred.
Timothy began to speak:
-My wife Margaret here is the granddaughter of a good man who went by the name of Arnold Feeziwig. I came to know her thanks to an introduction arranged by Mister Scrooge who somehow knew that she would be the woman who would fill my life with happiness and who would give me three lovely kids whom we both cherish. Five months after we were introduced we became engaged, and two months later we got married. Mister Scrooge provided me with an engagement ring for Clara that he had kept in his custody for many years since a time when he almost became a married man, and he never forgave himself for letting go a woman whom he said was the love of his life but who somehow became displaced by other prioriites Mister Scrooge had at the time, priorities which later on he proclaimed as being tastless and worthless. Being like a second father to me, he did not want me to repeat his mistake, and when we announced our engagement Mister Scrooge was thrilled jumping with joy. He was our godfather for our wedding, giving us his blessings as we took our vows in the house of the Lord.
-Are the kids tucked away in their beds?- asked Timothy addressing Margaret.
-The nanny took care of that, but I think they will still be awake at least until midnight glancing through the window hoping to catch a glimpse of you-know-who. Their stockings downstairs in the chimney have already been filled up with the usual goodies.
-Very good. Then now is our turn to enjoy ourselves and entertain our brothers and sisters as well as our guests.
Margaret went towards the one of the silver platters containg canapés while another woman at her side with a bonnet she had not yet taken off went to pick up a basket containing an assortment of glazed fruits that were offered to the eagerly awaiting attendants besides another basket containing some croissants and strudels putting a touch from the outside. Porcelain dishes containing baklavas were also being passed from one to another.
Alfred did not know it yet, but Timothy had great news for him, which he decided to break taking him by surprise:
-Alfred, it gives me great pleasure to tell you that a loan has been approved to help you rebuild your shop.
Staring in disbelief, as if what he had heard was to good to be true, Alfred said:
-I don’t recall ever asking for a loan.
-That was not necessary. It is more than obvious that you need our help. Furthermore, it is obvious that even before your shop burned down you did not have the tools in your shop to help you make ends meet. You will go back to work, but part of the loan will have to be used to acquire new tools, better than the ones you had, better than the ones you lost. Furthermore, besides working in your craft in order to earn some income for you and your family, you will be required to attend for at least two hours on a daily basis as an apprentice the hands-on-instruction that a master craftsman will give you in carpentry. I’m sure you will learn a lot of new things, things that will enable you to earn much more money than the pennies I assume you were making. You are on your way to becoming a master carpenter, and all we need from you is a little effort on your part.
-You are not kidding me, Mister Timothy? Please pinch me. Please tell me that this is not a dream, please repeat to me what you have just told me, for I’m not sure that I heard you correctly.
-A loan has been approved to help you rebuild your shop, and you will get all the training you will ever need to become a master carpenter.
-What is the interest on the loan?
-One tenth of one per cent, annually, with the principal due in twenty years.
-Did you say... one tenth... of one per cent... annually, payable back in twenty years?- spoke Alfred in complete disbelief.
-Yes. Do you think it is too much? If so, perhaps we can make additional considerations in your case.
-No, quite the contray, I believe it is more than reasonable. As a matter of fact, I believe I can pay back that loan much sooner than the time limit you have set.
-You might be interested in knowing that most of those who receive our help indeed pay their back their loans in full much sooner than the time frame they are given.
-Is that so?
-What’s more, the interest that you will be paying to our trust fund will be recycled back to increase the fund to make affordable loans available to people just like you.
-Do you hand out loans to everybody who comes here?
-The answer is most definitely no. We only help those who really need our help, we only help those who need a helping hand to put them back into their feet, those who we think deserve a second chance.
-How can you afford to stay in business?
-Very simple. Because we’re not in this to make a profit. We’re not in it for the money. Our business is not business as you know it. Our business is mankind. Sure, all of us who work here have decent salaries, we are well taken care of by ourselves and those who have joined us, but none of us have any intention of making a personal profit out of this unusual venture, out of this Trust Fund. Mankind is our only business. That’s how Mister Scrooge wanted it to be, that’s how he stipulated it in his will, and his wishes are being carried out just as he wanted and just as he did so himself in life. I might add that all of us here at the Ebeneezer Foundation consider it an honor and a privilege to continue the job that Mister Scrooge set out himself to do. At first he was alone, but soon people began to join him, and there are many donors who, just like us, haver discovered that there is much more joy in giving than in receiving.
Adopting a pensive gesture, touching his lip with his finger, Timothy added:
-Of course, there is another ingredient, the most intangible of them all, the power of belief, the power of faith. You must be able to believe in yourself, you must have faith in yourself. Ultimately, only you, Alfred Wilkins, can pull Alfred Wilkins from the depths life has imposed until now. We can provide some means to help you out, but you must seize the opportunity, carpe diem. Use your free will, for these are precisely the things free will is all about. Take my words as a caveat, learned from experience.
-Are you some sort of preacher?
-If by that you are asking me if I have a church, parish or some similar place for a congregation, the answer is no. But in a sense we all become parsons or priests when we share with others some of the most valuable lessons we have picked up while growing up. We all have valuable lessons to be learned from one another, and it is this sharing which can make us better helping to enrich us all.
-I have learned a lot from you, and I will do as you say. I will not fail you. And I will not fail my wife and daughter again, take my word for it.
Gleaming with satisfaction, Timothy continued:
-And now, I have another surprise for you.
-Another surprise? I can’t wait- responded Alfred with his face aglow.
-Peter! You can now bring them here!
The little girl ran toward her father holding a doll in her arm, while the woman followed in the footsteps of the little girl. Alfred recognized them at first sight, they were his wife and daughter. Timothy interceded:
-Your wife and daughter were very worried because you were absent for two full days, but one of my assistants went out looking for them to tell them that their beloved one was all right in my company, and brought them here in order to join us for our Christmas dinner.
The little girl ran towards Alfred who received her by embracing her with a hug.
-Daddy! Daddy! Where were you? I missed you, daddy, I missed you! Please never leave me and mommy as you did. Tell me you won’t.
Unable to hide his tears, Alfred replied:
-My little girl, my little princess, my little Clara. I also missed you during these days, more than you can imagine. I will never leave you again, never never ever.
Stephanie approached just in time to embrace them both and kiss her husband in the cheek. For a brief time, a profound silence engulfed the hall, underscoring the intensity of the dramatic reunion taking place. Placing his hand on the shoulder of Clara, Timothy broke the silence:
-Clara, guess what? A jolly big chubby man dressed in red clothing came by a few hours ago and left some presents for all of us, including you.
-Including me?- asked with astonishment the little girl who seemingly had never been given a Christmas gift in her life.
-Yes, including you. Yours is the big one in that big box wrapped with green luster paper and a white ribbon with a card with your name on it.
A smile gleamed on the face of the little girl as she jumped with joy and frolicked towards the pine tree while Timothy added, adressing little Clara:
-There is just one thing. The big fat man told us that you are not supposed to open your gift until Christmas day. Would that be a problem?
-No, sir. I will wait just as you told me, eventhough I can’t wait to open it up.
-That’s a good girl. If you keep your promise, I think the big fat guy will come back next Christmas to give you another gift. But you must promise not to be naughty.
-Weeee! I promise! I promise!
-Do you like pupppies or kittens? Which is your favorite?
-I like puppies very much.
-I remember that the big man in the red suit told me that tomorrow after he has carried out his duties he may make one last trip tomorrow to help you join with a new little friend who will be barking with joy and wagging his tail every time you come back home from school.
-Really?- asked the little girl with bewilderment.
-Really. And that man always keeps his promises.
-Weeee! It will be for me the best Christmas ever.
-The very best, with your father and mother by your side.
Overcomed with emotion, Alfred was barely able to whisper some words:
-Mister Timothy. I don’t know what to say. I am indebted in your favor. You came into my life as a living angel, and as a living angel I will consider you from now on.
-It would have to be a very hungry angel. I’m eager to enjoy the things you see on the main table. You and your wife and little Clara will join us on our feast. Your chairs are awaiting you over there.
Timothy addressed the rest of the small crowd inside the building:
-Let us now take our places in the dinner table as well as the other tables in this hall so we can begin with our feast.
Without further ado, each one took his place filled with anticipation.
-Mister Cratchit- exlaimed a woman by the name of Elizabeth, -before we enjoy this feast, we are all waiting for the usual opening toasts given by you, the custodian of the Ebeneezer Scrooge Foundation for Mankind.
Rising from his chair, as he turned towards his new protégé and his family, and then turning towards the rest of his companionship, Timothy lifted his glass of wine beholding the people all around him:
-First of all, a toast for our beloved Mister Scrooge, who is surely watching us from Heaven, and to whom we owe the reality of this foundation bearing his name. We know we must be nice to our fellow men, not naughty, if we are to aspire to join him in the eternal bliss that awaits all believers in life everlasting.
They all began to sip the sweet red wine while Timothy continued:
-Let us rejoice while we treasure fond memories of the incarnation of spirits of Christmas past, adding to them yet one more, the spirit of Christmas present which we will also remember fondly and keep in our hearts as we ready up ourselves to face with resolve whatever challenges the coming year may bring us. Let us embolden ourselves with the zest of some traditions and enthuse our imagination by recounting some holiday tales and stories spiced with a few of the treats added by the Yanks to these end-of-the-year events, such as the jingle of bells attached to an open sleigh being pulled by a horse dashing through the snow while some flakes of the white stuff still keep on falling upon the landscape in a picture worthy of a postcard. Let us begin with this wine that will relieve any tensions we might still have, and get ready to delight our taste buds while uniting in a circle of friendship.
Taking a deep breath before proceeding, Timothy added:
-May we indulge in merry ambiance, sharing with others the best of ourselves and shedding whatever worries we may have left behind, let this be our little escapade from the burdens we leave outside while we pray for peace on Earth and good will to Men in oue country and the rest of the world. Cheers!!!
Peter rised from his chair holding his glass of wine while saying:
-May I offer a toast to Mister Timothy Cratchit, under whose leadership our enterprise has been growing steadily. May we keep him for many years to come, with the blessing of our Lord. And my I offer this toast also to the mentor of Mister Cratchit, the unforgettable Mister Scrooge, whose acts of kindness were a source of fortitude which continue to inspire us to this day.
The others joined Peter in the toast, also standing up showing their respect for their leader who replied afterwards by a toast from himself adding his own wording to the occassion:
-Merry Christmas to us all! And let not the treasure of the good things in life be ever forgotten!
Taking another deep breath as he turned towards the big window where he could glance from the inside at the world outside, as if trying to address who might be listening out on the streets, grasping as best he could what seemed to be the flash of an inspirational moment, Timothy Cratchit lifted once more his now half-empty glass of wine, adding:
-And may God bless Us, every one!
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