Service
Elizabeth Morse
The decorated department store windows were just as beautiful as Diana remembered, although there were fewer than in years past. Red and green trains, wrapped boxes tied in shiny ribbons, and Santa Clauses glittered behind enormous windows. She dodged the reflection of her beige coat to look more closely at the detail. Cody, her son, was too old for the annual tour. He was as tall as she was now and sported an earring. He was in high school now. She’d loved this walk since childhood when she would stroll past store after store with her parents.
A homeless woman with a one-wheeled shopping cart was collecting money in a soiled coffee cup. Cody had started giving a few dollars to the homeless every now and then. “What if they use it to buy drugs?” Diana had asked.
“That’s on them,” he replied. “But it’s on me to help out.”
Lately, he’d started being interested in doing service. This meant giving his coins and dollars to homeless people. It also meant looking into EMT, pre-med and nursing programs for college, as well as biology and psychology programs.
She had to think of a gift that was related but came up with nothing. She had bought him a telescope because he was still interested in astronomy.
The homeless woman reached out an arm covered in a filthy black sweatshirt. “Please, ma’am!” Diana walked past her, although it somehow didn’t seem right.
This year, Cody would be spending half of Christmas with his dad and stepmother and the other half with Diana. They were going to pick him up on December 23rd and drop him off at her house late in the afternoon of the 25th. She was off from work. What was she even going to do before he got there?
~ ~ ~
When Diana was in her twenties, when she was still drinking, she got drunk on Christmas Eve. She’d just moved to a cozy studio apartment with an inactive fireplace covered by an ornate grate. Her friends had gone to their families. She could have gone to hers, but the prospect was unappealing. Her mother’s pronouncements stung. “I can’t imagine that you’ll pay the rent on time,” she’d said, teeth stained with red lipstick. “You have trouble coping with the real world.”
Diana wasn’t going to her family for Christmas Eve. Maybe not even Christmas Day.
Before it was dark, she went into a liquor store that had plexiglass barriers. Scotch was what she bought. Her parents drank scotch, and it tasted like home. In her apartment, she sat in the dark, drinking directly from the bottle.
She couldn’t stop throwing up in the shower. In the morning, dizzy and hung over, she called her parents and took the subway up to visit them for Christmas. Undoubtedly, they’d drink, too.
~ ~ ~
Years later, he realized that she could have done any number of things on the holiday that did not involve alcohol. She could have volunteered at a hospital and rocked premature infants in her lap. She could have looked at the store window displays with a hot chocolate in her hand.
However, volunteer work seemed too goody-two-shoes. She wasn’t interested in being a human sacrifice.
~ ~ ~
Cody wasn’t wrong. She had no real reason to think that homeless people would just use the money for drugs. Of course, some did, but certainly not all.
On her way home from work once, she rode the subway with a disheveled man who reeked of piss. No one sat near him. Some even moved to the next car.
If you were homeless, it must be tough to find a bathroom where you could wash.
Stacy, a friend of hers, had found herself homeless after a job loss. She and her two daughters had found a room in a shelter. Their clothes were worn and faded, but they didn’t smell. The kids went to school. Stacy even worked in a small office. For them it was just bad luck. They finally managed to get an apartment, but it took years.
~ ~ ~
Diana called all the soup kitchens near where she lived. One accepted her as a volunteer to serve Christmas dinner at noon.
So it was that she served turkey and stuffing to a crowd sitting at long tables. She wore a red dress and a headband with reindeer antlers. Some diners thanked her profusely; others sullenly spooned stuffing into their mouths.
Doing this made her feel like a kind person. Now she was making the holiday possible for people who might not have been able to enjoy it otherwise.
Working the soup kitchen beat being hung over.
~ ~ ~
Cody rang the bell about an hour after she’d arrived home. He went straight to the Christmas tree and tore the green and silver paper off the telescope. “I love it!” he said, and hugged Diana. He presented her with a brightly colored coffee mug.
The basket of gifts from his father and stepmother were in the hall; an exquisite book of renaissance paintings and another of elaborate diagrams of the human body. Together, Cody and Diana admired them.
They ate in front of the copiously lit tree. Finally, Diana said, “Today, I did something I’ve never done before.”
Cody put his fork down and shook his hair out of his eyes. “Oh?” he said.
“I served Christmas dinner at a soup kitchen.”
“What made you decide to do that?”
“I listened to you talk about how you wanted to help others.”
“Congratulations, Mom!” he said. “I’m proud of you.”
She smiled. After years, she’d done what felt like the right thing. It had taken so long to untwist her past. For today, she was the role model she’d wanted to be since her son was born. She’d finally become someone she could admire.
Elizabeth Morse
The decorated department store windows were just as beautiful as Diana remembered, although there were fewer than in years past. Red and green trains, wrapped boxes tied in shiny ribbons, and Santa Clauses glittered behind enormous windows. She dodged the reflection of her beige coat to look more closely at the detail. Cody, her son, was too old for the annual tour. He was as tall as she was now and sported an earring. He was in high school now. She’d loved this walk since childhood when she would stroll past store after store with her parents.
A homeless woman with a one-wheeled shopping cart was collecting money in a soiled coffee cup. Cody had started giving a few dollars to the homeless every now and then. “What if they use it to buy drugs?” Diana had asked.
“That’s on them,” he replied. “But it’s on me to help out.”
Lately, he’d started being interested in doing service. This meant giving his coins and dollars to homeless people. It also meant looking into EMT, pre-med and nursing programs for college, as well as biology and psychology programs.
She had to think of a gift that was related but came up with nothing. She had bought him a telescope because he was still interested in astronomy.
The homeless woman reached out an arm covered in a filthy black sweatshirt. “Please, ma’am!” Diana walked past her, although it somehow didn’t seem right.
This year, Cody would be spending half of Christmas with his dad and stepmother and the other half with Diana. They were going to pick him up on December 23rd and drop him off at her house late in the afternoon of the 25th. She was off from work. What was she even going to do before he got there?
~ ~ ~
When Diana was in her twenties, when she was still drinking, she got drunk on Christmas Eve. She’d just moved to a cozy studio apartment with an inactive fireplace covered by an ornate grate. Her friends had gone to their families. She could have gone to hers, but the prospect was unappealing. Her mother’s pronouncements stung. “I can’t imagine that you’ll pay the rent on time,” she’d said, teeth stained with red lipstick. “You have trouble coping with the real world.”
Diana wasn’t going to her family for Christmas Eve. Maybe not even Christmas Day.
Before it was dark, she went into a liquor store that had plexiglass barriers. Scotch was what she bought. Her parents drank scotch, and it tasted like home. In her apartment, she sat in the dark, drinking directly from the bottle.
She couldn’t stop throwing up in the shower. In the morning, dizzy and hung over, she called her parents and took the subway up to visit them for Christmas. Undoubtedly, they’d drink, too.
~ ~ ~
Years later, he realized that she could have done any number of things on the holiday that did not involve alcohol. She could have volunteered at a hospital and rocked premature infants in her lap. She could have looked at the store window displays with a hot chocolate in her hand.
However, volunteer work seemed too goody-two-shoes. She wasn’t interested in being a human sacrifice.
~ ~ ~
Cody wasn’t wrong. She had no real reason to think that homeless people would just use the money for drugs. Of course, some did, but certainly not all.
On her way home from work once, she rode the subway with a disheveled man who reeked of piss. No one sat near him. Some even moved to the next car.
If you were homeless, it must be tough to find a bathroom where you could wash.
Stacy, a friend of hers, had found herself homeless after a job loss. She and her two daughters had found a room in a shelter. Their clothes were worn and faded, but they didn’t smell. The kids went to school. Stacy even worked in a small office. For them it was just bad luck. They finally managed to get an apartment, but it took years.
~ ~ ~
Diana called all the soup kitchens near where she lived. One accepted her as a volunteer to serve Christmas dinner at noon.
So it was that she served turkey and stuffing to a crowd sitting at long tables. She wore a red dress and a headband with reindeer antlers. Some diners thanked her profusely; others sullenly spooned stuffing into their mouths.
Doing this made her feel like a kind person. Now she was making the holiday possible for people who might not have been able to enjoy it otherwise.
Working the soup kitchen beat being hung over.
~ ~ ~
Cody rang the bell about an hour after she’d arrived home. He went straight to the Christmas tree and tore the green and silver paper off the telescope. “I love it!” he said, and hugged Diana. He presented her with a brightly colored coffee mug.
The basket of gifts from his father and stepmother were in the hall; an exquisite book of renaissance paintings and another of elaborate diagrams of the human body. Together, Cody and Diana admired them.
They ate in front of the copiously lit tree. Finally, Diana said, “Today, I did something I’ve never done before.”
Cody put his fork down and shook his hair out of his eyes. “Oh?” he said.
“I served Christmas dinner at a soup kitchen.”
“What made you decide to do that?”
“I listened to you talk about how you wanted to help others.”
“Congratulations, Mom!” he said. “I’m proud of you.”
She smiled. After years, she’d done what felt like the right thing. It had taken so long to untwist her past. For today, she was the role model she’d wanted to be since her son was born. She’d finally become someone she could admire.
