Sounds of festive holiday carols filled the room, magnified by the absence of its usual occupants. Frosted glass showed the beginning of flurries dropping from the opaque clouds like a blanket overhead outside. It made a perfect backdrop to the tree standing full and fragrant on the classroom shelves beneath.
Humming along with the cheery music and occasionally singing a phrase, Cara placed the last of the ornaments on a branch, plugged in the lights and stepped back to look. With a satisfied nod accompanied by a smile, she took the angel from the box and placed it on top. Perfect, she thought, as she turned in a circle to survey the room. She could almost hear the squeals of delight her students would utter when they came back to class on Monday.
Silencing her phone, she placed it in her purse and gathered her coat and hat. Turning for the door, she started when she saw the figure standing there. Observing the somber expression, she sobered. “Principal Monroe, what are you doing here on a Saturday?”
Respected by the parents of her students and well-liked by her colleagues, Dorie Monroe exhibited both a professionalism and pleasantness that made her easy to approach and rewarding to work with.
Cara knew the woman to be direct, fair and supportive. The idea of her approaching one of her teachers with what appeared to be something serious, and outside school hours was unusual.
Dorie smiled. “Same as you. I came to take care of some holiday business in the office.”
Curious now, she inquired. “I hope I didn’t disturb you with the loud music. I didn’t know anyone was here.”
“No. Of course not.” She took a breath. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. It concerns you.”
Eyes wide, she braced herself. It might explain why the approach outside work. “What is it?”
“I just received a call from Toby Tyler’s mother.”
Concerned now, Cara set her coat and purse down. “Did something happen?”
“His grandfather passed this morning.”
“Oh no!”
A quiet child, Toby had stolen Cara’s heart the moment he entered her classroom. Though smart and well-liked by his classmates, he kept to himself mostly. There seemed to be a kind of sadness to his demeanor, though he never complained or shared any details.
Cara suspected it might have to do with his father’s death during his military service overseas, but she couldn’t be certain. She tried hard not to play favorites but she couldn’t help showing an interest in encouraging him and he seemed to respond favorably. She also knew that he and his mother lived with his grandfather and that Toby was very close to him so it surprised her that he hadn’t let on that his grandfather might be ill.
“It was sudden.” Dorie explained. She smiled knowingly. “I know you have a heart for Toby.”
Catching her breath, she opened her mouth to respond.
The other woman raised a hand and shook her head reassuringly. “I don’t mean anything by that. He’s a bright, special child and has had a bit of a rough go of it. Part of our role as educators is to be sensitive to the needs of our students and adjust accordingly.”
Cara nodded and relaxed.
“That’s why I thought you should know. It’s likely he’ll have a tough time.”
Shaking her head thoughtfully, she added. “Losing loved ones is hard enough but at holiday time…”
Dorie nodded. “I know. That’s why I wanted you to be aware.”
“Thank you.” Picking up her things, she hesitated for a moment and then seemed to make a decision. “I’ll ask my church to pray for his family. Maybe there’s something we can do to help. It’s got to be really hard on his mom.”
“Yes, I’ll talk to the board. I know it’s been a stretch for Toby’s mom to have him here, but I’d hate to see such a tragedy make it impossible.”
She hadn’t thought of that. Her decision to take a position teaching at a smaller, private school had been one she’d never regretted. It was like being part of a family. They took care of their own.
“They’re in the community room.” She inclined her head toward a pair of heavy wooden doors. “You just missed cookies and cocoa.”
“Hello, Cara.” The front desk attendant greeted cheerfully. “Looks like it’s really coming down out there.
Brushing the snow from her shoulders and stamping it from her boots as she approached the front doors of the center, Cara hurried inside. She removed her hat and started toward the hallway.
“Thank you.” She rushed down the hallway, shrugging into her coat as she made for the exit doors. Already late, the now heavy snow falling would mean taking her time as she drove.
“Of course. I won’t keep you.” Principal Monroe stepped out of the doorway.
“Well, I’m late to visit my nana.” Cara declared.
“It is.”
“I know.” She replied apologetically. “The traffic…”
Her expression head bob acknowledged understanding. “Go ahead in.”
As she opened the doors, she was greeted with the lively sounds of instrumental holiday classics along with the quiet buzz of conversation, some animated, some more subdued. Tables topped with white linen displayed pretty floral centers with colors of the season. A brightly lit, decorated tree stood in a corner at what would be considered the front of the room.
It only took a moment to locate her grandmother. She and her two friends sat in the center at one side of the room, in lively discourse. A kind of joyful aura emitted from where they sat. Their attention fixed, only occasionally moving to the surrounding tables, at first, they didn’t notice the new arrival.
Cara started toward them.
“Oh, honey!” Her grandmother exclaimed. “I thought you might not be coming today.”
“They say it’s practically a blizzard out there.” Her friend Maizie declared.
Touching her grandmother’s shoulder, she kissed the top of her head. “It’s not as bad as all that, though the traffic is a bit slow.” She smiled patiently. “I would let you know if I wasn’t coming, Nana.”
The older woman smiled and nodded. “Of course, dear. You must be chilled to the bone.”
“Well…”
Nana waved to an attendant who responded by coming over.
“What is it, Lillith?”
“Is there any cocoa left? Would it be possible to get a cup for my granddaughter?”
“Let me see what I can do.” She replied, immediately scanning the room as she moved away.
“Sit down, dear.” The third woman said, indicating an empty seat next to her.
Removing her coat, she placed it on the chair and sat. “Thanks. So, what are you ladies up to today?”
“You just missed the cookies and cocoa. There’s some Christmas trivia this afternoon and a sing along tonight.”
“How fun!” Cara enthused. While having her grandmother in an independent, partially assisted living facility wasn’t ideal, the place had a solid reputation and by all accounts and indications seemed comfortable and trustworthy.
“Your mother called this morning.” Her grandmother announced. “They’re settling in and have found an active retirement group. Seems like they’re happy.”
She nodded cheerfully. “I know Dad’s happy he can play golf — in December.”
Maizie laughed. “I think I’d like to be out of the cold myself.”
“But what would we do without you?” Nana asked, patting her hand.
The third woman, whose name was Pauline, turned to Cara. “So how are things at the school?”
“Oh, yes!” Maizie seemed happy to change the subject. “Christmas seems particularly joyful when there are children around.”
It gave Cara pause a moment as she remembered Toby. Perhaps she would share it with Nana in private. “Well, I’m trying to decide on something for this year’s Blessing Project.”
“Blessing Project?” Pauline asked. “What’s that?”
“Every year, each grade takes on a project. Something they can do to give back to others. For Christmas.” Her mind was working. Should they take Toby’s family as a project? She thought not. It would likely be too embarrassing for him.
“What kind of things do they do?”
“Well, last year, we wrote cards and sent them to soldiers overseas who can’t get home for the holidays.” She grinned. “Some of the soldiers wrote back. The kids loved it.”
“That’s so thoughtful!”
“What ideas do you have?” Nana prompted.
Cara shook her head. “I’m coming up empty. It’s intended to really mean something. You know, spread some joy to people who need it.”
“Speaking of people who need joy…” Pauline remarked.
Moving toward the doors, a man in a wheelchair was being pushed by an attendant. His legs covered in a blanket, he sat half hunched, not making eye contact with anyone.
Cara couldn’t decide if his scowling expression was ill temper or melancholy. She asked. “Who is that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.”
“You probably haven’t.” Pauline answered. “He hasn’t been here all that long.”
“He keeps to himself. Stays in his room mostly.”
“What’s his story?”
Nana shook her head. “No one really knows. The call him ‘the doctor’ but don’t share any details.”
“Is he an M.D? Doesn’t he have visitors?”
“No.” Maizie replied sadly. “That must be the loneliest man alive.”
Cara’s heart went out to him. Here, an old man, alone and seemingly friendless; while Toby, who would give anything to have his grandfather for the holidays. She perked up as an idea came to her. “Hey, what would you ladies think about my bringing my class here? You know as their Blessing Project?”
“We aren’t in need.” Pauline frowned.
“Well, maybe not, but don’t you think it would do the residents good to spend some time with the kids?”
“I miss my grandkids, since my son and his family moved.” Maizie admitted. “I, for one, wouldn’t mind. What would you do?”
“I’m not sure. I just thought of it.” She admitted. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. But I’ll come up with something.”
“I think it’s a lovely idea.” Nana encouraged. “And I’m sure whatever you decide will be perfect.”
“Thank you, Nana.”
The attendant approached. “I’m sorry, ladies. I couldn’t find any cocoa left.”
“No worries.” Cara assured. “But is the manager here? I’d like to talk to her about something.”
“No. She doesn’t work Saturdays.” The young woman looked scared.
“It’s nothing bad.” She smiled. “I have a project I’d like her approval for.”
Clearly relieved, the attendant answered. “She’ll be in first thing Monday.”
“Great.” She’d need permission from Principal Monroe also, and a plan, but she was suddenly excited.
By Monday after lunch, Cara had the permissions she needed and had begun preparing to get the project started. Having promised the children details, she could sense their excitement as they filed back in from the break.
“Ok, everyone.” She began.
All murmuring ceased and eyes focused forward.
Coming around the desk, jar in hand, she said. “For the Blessing Project this year, we’re going to make ornaments and a card for residents of a local senior citizens’ home right here in town.”
A young girl’s hand went up.
“What is it, Ashley?”
“Don’t they have trees and stuff already decorated?”
“There’s a tree where they live,” Cara replied. “But the idea is more that they don’t get to see many people during the season and would really like a visit from you.”
“You mean we’re going there?” Another child asked.
“But…”
“That’s what the ornaments are for.” Her response was instinctive to their possible wondering at what to say. “When you give them the ornament, it will start a conversation. You see many of them don’t have any family here and don’t get many visitors.”
“On Christmas?” A little girl exclaimed.
“Yes.” She replied. “But now, anyone who really doesn’t want to participate, or whose parents would rather they didn’t go, will still get to make an ornament. We’ll just take it along and give it to whomever it’s for.”
“How will you know?” A boy named Bobby asked.
“That’s what the bag is for.” Cara explained, holding it up. “You’re each going to choose a name from the bag. When we’re finished making the ornaments and have a head count for who is going, I’ll take back those names.”
When there didn’t seem to be any more questions and no fidgeting, she went on. “Does anyone want to opt out right now?”
No hands went up.
“I’m proud of you.” She declared. “Now, one at a time, come and choose a name. Starting with Britt.”
As each child chose from the bag, they looked at the name and whispered among themselves as they returned to their seats.
Cara secretly hoped Toby would choose her grandmother. She had told her of his situation and thought it would be better for him to have someone who understood without his having to say anything or explain any reluctance.
When the children were filing out at the end of the day, Toby hesitated, hanging back. He dawdled until there were no others in the room before coming to the desk.
“What is it, Toby?”
“Well…” his voice showed his emotions.
Cara put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I know about your grandfather. It’s okay if you don’t want to make the trip with us.”
“Oh, it’s not that.” He perked up. “But… you know how much I like the Mission Force Mystery Books.”
“Yes.”
“Well, Mom and I were going to make an ornament of First Mate Friedrich together so I could give it to Grandpa. He and I always read them together. Do you think I could do that for mine?”
“What name did you draw?”
He took the slip from his pocket and unfolded it. “Someone named Patrick Niemiller but it says they call him ‘the doctor’.”
Her heart sank. Worst possible choice, she thought and considered somehow trying to intervene but knew it would be wrong of her to attempt it. Taking a deep breath, she replied with more confidence than she felt. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
Toby perked up and bounded from the room.
From her lips to God’s ears, she prayed.
Cara thrilled at how engaged the children became while working on their ornaments and writing out the accompanying cards. It seemed like a magical Christmas spirit filled the classroom.
When the day arrived for the trip, an atmosphere of excitement made it a challenge to get through the day’s lesson plan, so they finally gave up and decided to go a little earlier than planned.
In the lobby of the center, an attendant took the children’s coats, Cara distributed their ornament boxes and cards before lining them up to enter the community room.
The residents were seated at tables as usual, and it troubled her a little that “the doctor” sat alone, practically in a corner. Tentatively, the children started forward and Cara was grateful that they had made place cards with each resident’s name on them so it would be easy for the children to find their match.
She watched, concerned, as Toby hesitated. Placing a hand on his back, she urged quietly. “Go ahead, Toby.”
He walked slowly toward the grimacing old man.
Looking around, she felt gratified that most of the children were engaged in conversation; some a little reserved and others set at ease by the kind attention and appreciation of the recipients. It didn’t surprise her to see Nana, Pauline and Maizie already laughing and talking exuberantly with the three children at their table.
Watching nervously, she saw Toby hand the small box and card to “the doctor”.
He took it, almost reluctantly, but then opened it slowly. Pushing aside the tissue paper, he stared at the ornament inside.
Oh, no. Cara thought. Set to intervene, she started over but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see the director of the center.
“I can’t thank you enough for this, Cara.” She beamed. “What a wonderful idea. Perhaps we can have your class visit more often.”
“Perhaps.” Cara replied, distracted. “We’ll see.”
“Let’s talk.” The director urged. “After the new year.”
Nodding absently, she turned toward the pair and stopped. She watched as the man’s eyes seemed to fill with tears and he spoke quietly to Toby.
Immediately, Toby’s face lit up as he responded and then suddenly reached out to hug the man.
Cara stood dumbfounded. She hadn’t been able to hear their exchange.
“The doctor” looked flustered as Toby released him and turned to the rest of the room, his face beaming. “Hey, guys!”
All eyes turned toward him.
“This is Doctor Doolander!” Toby seemed triumphant. “He wrote the Mission Force Mystery books!”
There seemed to be a consensus of release from the other residents as the children rushed to gather around him.
“I love those books!” One of them declared.
“I asked for the set for Christmas!” Another chimed.
Stunned, Cara watched as the old man’s demeanor softened and gave them a few minutes with him, before she approached. “All right, children. We’ll need to finish up now. Your parents will be coming to school to pick you up.”
Murmured disappointment as they dispersed and made their way back to their assigned tables to say goodbye.
From the corner of her eye, she saw an attendant quickly move to wheel the old man out of the room. She said farewell to her nana and friends before heading into the lobby where the children were putting their coats on and gathering at the door.
“Cara.” It was the director again.
She went to speak and assure her they would talk.
Before she could, the woman said. “The doctor would like to speak with you. Do you have a minute?”
Unsure what lay in store, she nodded and followed her up the hallway. Hesitating at the door of his room which stood open, she knocked softly.
He turned and motioned. “Come in, young lady. Come in.”
“I hope you weren’t upset…”
“Upset?” His eyes took on a distant look as he extended a hand. In it was what appeared to be a manuscript.
She stared in wonder. “Is this…?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “The final chapter in the Mission Force Mysteries.”
Gasping, she looked from it him to it and back. “But…”
He sighed. “They told me kids weren’t interested in this kind of thing anymore. Too simple. Too altruistic. That all they want is video games, racing and such.”
What she did know was that “Doctor Doolander” had seemingly disappeared and everyone wondered what happened to the last of the series. “So…”
“I’ve been holding on to this for years.” He looked up at her kindly. “I thought it… I had become irrelevant.”
“Hardly.” Cara assured. “Those books are among the most popular in our Accelerated Reader program.”
Now smiling, he nodded. “I’m going to publish it. For Toby.”
“He’ll love that.”
“I’d like to see the children again.” He offered tentatively. “I’ve had some ideas for a new series. I’d like to hear from them.”
Cara grinned widely. “I’m sure they’d be thrilled to participate. That’s very generous of you.”
“On the contrary, young lady.” He answered. “They’ve given me a purpose. Something to live for.”
Hardly able to fight tears, she simply nodded.
“Thank you, young lady. This has meant more than you can possibly know.”
“Call me Cara, please.”
Now he grinned mischievously. “I’m not really a doctor. That’s a pen name. My name is Patrick Niemiller.”
She laughed now. “I’m already working with the director to arrange some future visits from the children.”
“Wonderful.”
“Now I have to get them back to school. Their parents will be waiting.”
“I look forward to seeing you all again.”
“Yes, sir.” She replied, heading back into the hallway toward the lobby. She couldn’t decide who had been most affected: the residents, “the doctor”, Toby or herself.
Blessing Project indeed.
Lisa Greco Filali 