A Dream on Christmas Eve  （1）

 By Zhongwanting

 

(I)   The javises

 

It was snowing. The sky was dark blue, unlike Angela’s light blue eyes. The pieces of white snow were like little angels flying in the sky and telling people that Christmas would come soon.

‘How beautiful’, Angela thought. Angela was a seven-year-old girl. She had soft white skin. Her intelligent eyes were as blue as limpid water. They were as clear as rock-crystal. Her beautiful curly golden hair fell on her shoulders. She was a lovely girl.

Meanwhile, Angela was sitting in a chair near the window, reading a story-book called ‘Stories by Hans Christian Anderson’. Its leather covers with gold rims had a nice fragrance. The pages were white and hard. This new book was a gift from Angela’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Javis. She liked the book.

While Angela Javis was reading, Mr. Javis was sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the big living-room, reading newspaper. Mrs. Javis was sitting on the sofa beside the rocking chair, knitting. It was an ordinary evening.

Angela flipped over the pages. She began to read another story. It was ‘The Little Match Girl ’.

Angela read the story happily. Then she became more and more serious. Finally she closed the book. She stared outside at the snow.

‘Mummy, is this story ... really true?’ Angela asked. ‘This “The Little Match Girl”?’

‘No, my dear. It is just a fairy tale.’ Mrs. Javis smiled. ‘You needn’t believe in it.’

Mr. Javis put down his newspaper. ‘What did you ask, my kid ? ’

Angela repeated her question.

Mr. Javis’ brows creased. He thought for a minute. ‘Why yes, my girl. I know, well, I once knew, a girl just like her.’

‘Really, Daddy? Tell me about her, then.’ Angela became very excited.

 

(II)   Mr. Javis’s Story

 

Mr. Javis began the story.

That was 25 years ago when your father was 13 years old. I was a salesclerk at a butcher’s. I worked most of the day.

‘One day when I was cleaning the store, I saw a girl dressed in rags passing the shop. I didn’t pay any attention to her.

‘Then I saw her every day during the following months. I began to feel surprised. I noticed that she came every day at 6 o’clock.

‘So one afternoon, after closing the store, I went out and talked with her. She was frightened. She said her name was Dolores, but her neighbours called her Dolly. The rich kids called her “Dolly the Crow”. She earned little money by selling matches. She lived in a little old house with her father. The wind blew in from the leaks in the roof. She had nothing to eat but ice and crumbs. She had only a thin rag on. She was too poor to buy a pair of shoes. Her little feet were almost frozen. What a poor girl! I pitied her.

‘One day, she was beaten black and blue. I was sorry for her. When I asked her why, she said that she hadn’t sold any matches last night, so her father beat her with an iron club, just because she hadn’t earned any money.’

‘Poor girl! She must be in great pain.’ Angela exclaimed.

‘Yes. But poor people had to live.’ Mr. Javis sighed, then continued.

‘So I gave her 3 pounds. She thanked me.’

‘Why not gave her some more money?’

‘Well, the butcher only gave me 10 shillings every week! Then I gave her some beef. She was very grateful to me for my kindness.

‘I gave her 5 pence every day.

‘On a December 24th, I didn’t see her coming. I thought that she stayed home because it was Christmas Eve.

‘For several days I failed to find her. I became very worried. Did she have an accident? Did her father beat her to death?’

‘On January 4th, I set out to look for her. I searched for her for 3 days. Then I found her in a little alley, leaning against the wall of a rich man’s house, with a small match in her hand ...’ He stopped.

 

(III)    The Sad Ending

 

The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Angela and Mrs. Javis all stared at Mr. Javis.

‘What happened, Dad?’ Angela asked anxiously.

‘Dolores ... she ... died. She curled up ... in the snow. She was frozen stiff. Her pretty blue eyes would never open. There was a smile on her face. She died ... so peacefully ...’

 

(IV)     Do You Believe It?

 

Nobody spoke. Nobody even looked up. The Javises were thinking hard. And nobody noticed the tears sliding down Angela’s face.

It was Mr. Javis who spoke, ‘Well, that’s a moving story...’

‘Which moved us all to tears.’ Mrs. Javis said, quivering.

They turned to look at Angela, who had her hands on her face, weeping.

‘Don’t sob over Daddy’s tear-jerker, Angie,’ Mrs. Javis said. ‘Robert, is the Dolores tale true?’

‘Mummy, I reckon ... I reckon ... Daddy ... Daddy is ... is not ... lying ... lying to ... to his ... his ... little Angel ... . I’m ... I’m sure.’ Angela said sobbingly.

Mrs. Javis walked up to Angela and wiped off Angela’s tears.

‘You don’t know it. You don’t believe me. There was a Dolores, unlike Doreen or Dora or Dalia. There was one Dolores Jackson. If a Robert Javis lived, then a Dolores Jackson lived. I had visited Dolores’ home in South 83 Avenue. Her father was Magee Jackson. Dolores had a little brother called Dylan. Mr. Jackson treated Dolores badly. But he loved Dylan, as if the young boy was the prince of Britain. He gave Dolores crumbs and ice, but Dylan had fresh meat and milk and cakes. Dolores had to sleep on the cold ground, but Dylan could sleep on a soft bed made of straw. Dylan could wear an old but thick cotton coat. Dolores had to wear rags. This is unfair!’ Mr. Javis exclaimed.

Angela stared at her shoes. She believed in her father. She believed in Dolores.

Mr. Javis didn’t go on talking about his poor friend. He went on reading his newspaper. Mrs. Javis began knitting again. It seemed as if they were uninterested in Dolores Jackson.

Angela looked around. She lived in a pretty two-storeyed house. She had her own room. The living room was huge. It was decorated beautifully for Christmas.

Christmas? Yes, it was Christmas Eve!

Suddenly, Angela remembered something. She ran up the stairs and went into her room. She turned on the light and locked the door.

 

(IV)     The Envelopes

 

Angela reached under her pillow. She pulled out a large envelope. She opened it and took out another one. She fished out a smaller one from inside it. There were 7 more inside. The last one was green. She took out a piece of red paper. It was a letter. It was from North Pole.

 

(VII)     Santa’s Letter

 

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *     *     *

My Dear Angela:

You may be surprised when you open this letter. But I’m an old man you know well! Ho, ho, I’m pleased to receive your letter.

On Christmas day, you’ll find what you want. Of course, the gifts will be in your stocking hung on the bed. And, as you are a good girl, you’ll find a ‘great surprise’ under your Christmas tree. Of all the children who have written to me, you are the best.

Well, I have millions of letters to read. If you have a wish, just phone me. My telephone number is 12345678. You can tell me your wish, and I’ll try my best to help you accomplish your wish.

I think that’s all. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Yours,

Santa Claus

P.S.:Nearly forgot. Phone me before 9 p.m. on Dec. 24th, or I’ll be away. I’ll send gifts to children around the world at 9 p.m. on Dec. 24th.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Angela smiled. It was 8 o’clock. She would telephone Santa Claus and tell him her wish. She put the letter in the envelope. She put the large envelope under her pillow.

Then, Angela walked up to her telephone. She picked up the receiver and dialed: 12345678.

 

(VIII)     Coincidence

 

Angela waited. Then she heard a loud, jolly voice: ‘Ho ho ho, this is Santa Claus from the Santa Claus Village. Who is that, please?’

Angela became very nervous. ‘This is ... this is Angela Javis.’ She said. Then she added, ‘Oh, from the suburbs near London.’

The loud, jolly laughter sounded in her ear, ‘Ho,ho,ho,ho,ho,ho ... ’

After a while, Santa Claus said, ‘I remember. You are the girl whom I wrote to on Dec. 15th. Your name is ... Angela Grecia Javis. Ho,ho, is that right? Ho ho ho!’

‘Er, almost right. My name is Angela Javis. But my middle name isn’t Grecia. It’s ... ’

‘Is it ... Glancia?’ Santa Claus asked.

‘No, it’s Glory. My name is Angela Glory Javis. Why do you call me Angela Grecia Javis?’

‘Because I mix your name with two others.’

‘Who?’ Angela requested.

‘Alfred Glancia Davis and Dolores Grecia Jackson. Oh ho ho!’

Suddenly, Angela sat on her bed. The receiver fell from her hand. Her mouth opened wide. Dolores Grecia Jackson! She knew that name, she knew it ...

Dad’s tale ... Did Dad cheat Angela?

Dolores, the girl who sold matches, had died many years before she was born. Did Santa Claus know her?

It was not real. It was a dream .…..

 

(IX)     The Strang Girl

 

Angela opened her eyes. Her mouth was filled with the taste of brandy.

Brandy? Yes, brandy! Brandy! Brandy!

It was brandy that made her awake.

Suddenly, Angela sat up. She realized she had fainted. She thought about what had happened before she fainted. At first Dad told the story. Then she got into the room, read the letter and telephoned Santa Claus. When she heard that Santa Claus knew Dolores, she fainted! And now, she was drinking brandy!

Who made her drink brandy?

Angela felt darkness in front of her. She couldn’t see anything!

Frightened, Angela rubbed her eyes. She could see only the dim outlines of the objects in her room. But she felt that she could see something else.

What was it?

Angela rubbed her eyes again. Then she could see clearly.

Angela saw a tall girl standing in front of her. The girl was at least five feet tall. Her skin was as white as snow. She had white gloves on. She was wearing a beautiful white dress. The dress was just the kind Angels wore in her favourite book ‘Children’s Bible’. The girl was carrying a long blue stick. On the top of the stick was a shining silver star. She was wearing long white socks and white shoes. Her long golden hair fell to her feet. Her pretty pink lips seemed to be so soft.

But Angela couldn’t see the girl’s eyes. That’s because the strange girl had a big white hat on. The hat covered half of her face. When Angela looked at the girl’s hat more carefully, she saw there was a strange star on it. The star seemed to be transparent, but then it seemed that the star wasn’t transparent at all. A strange blue light came from it. Angela felt that the blue light came from inside the star. But it was transparent. Angela was puzzled. What a strange star! She suddenly noticed something else about the girl, something Angela had never seen. She knew what it was then .…..

 

(X)     The Wings

 

Wings! Yes, the girl got two big silver wings on her back. They were folded back and shining like silver.

Angela was frightened.

Who was this girl? She had never known such a girl with wings.

How did the girl come in? The door was locked and the window was tightly closed to keep out the cold.

Why did the girl come to her?

The most frightening thing was the girl’s appearance. Why wasn’t she cold just wearing a dress? Why did she have wings? Why was she wearing such a big hat? She should have known it was too big for her. What about the star? What about the stick? Why did she hide her eyes?

It was a mystery!

 

(XI)    Dolores and Angela

 

The girls stood face to face for a long time. Then Angela looked up. It was 8:30.

Angela looked down at her shoes. She wanted very much to talk with the girl. But a strange thing inside her, which she didn’t know how to call, stopped her from moving her tongue.

‘Come on, you little girl. You’re seven! Don’t be so timid! Speak!’ Angela said to herself.

Finally, Angela plucked up courage to speak. ‘Well, what ... what’s your name?’

‘Poora Star Angel.’ The girl spoke very quickly with a pleasant voice. ‘Call me Polayne or simply “Angel No. 9.” Now what?’

‘Strange name.’ Angela said. She felt that Polayne, this ‘Angel No.9’, was cold and unfriendly. She sighed and continued, ‘My name is Angela Glory Javis. Why do you have that name?’

‘Only a code number name. Before I went North, my name was Jackson.’ Polayne smiled and lowered her big hat. The blue star on it gave out a wonderful light.

Angela looked at Polayne. ‘First name?’

‘Dolores. Dolores Grecia Jackson. Nice to meet you, Angela.’ Polayne said warmly.

Angela’s mouth dropped open. She tried to pretend that nothing had happened.

‘Hm ... Nice to meet you, too, Polayne. Well, do you know Robert Gretior Javis?’

‘Robert Gretior Javis ... Hm. Let me think. Robert ... oh yes, I know him! That was 25 years ago when I was 12. He was a nice teen. He helped me.’ Polayne beamed and then said in a strange voice, ‘Oh, Angela, how do you know I once knew him?’

‘You don’t know. I’m Mr. Javis’ daughter’ Angela replied. ‘Well, Poora is a pleasant girl! But what is it she had once been Dolores, Daddy’s friend? Is it true?’ Angela thought.

 

(XII)     Farewell

 

‘How did you become an Angel?’

‘Well, I became an Angel after I died. You know? I tried to help the sick poor kids, hurt ones and those who were even poorer than I was. Then, I died because of the cold on a December 24th. Oh, no, I didn’t die! That was my "twin sister" who died! Dolores Jackson died. I, Polayne Soul, was picked up by Santa Claus. I became the helper of Santa Claus. I prepare some of the gifts for the children. On Christmas Eve, I fly around the world with Dave and Alfred to see if all the kids are all right. Get it?’ Polayne grinned.

‘Yep. I know it now. You are the "twin" of Dolores. That’s why you had Dolores’ characteristic: helpful and kind.

Polayne nodded.

‘I have thousands of questions to ask you. You are my friend! Will you stay, o Polayne? Please, please. PLEASE, Polayne!’ Angela begged.

‘I’m sorry, Angela, but I’ve told you so much about my privacy. I shouldn’t stay here for hours, right? There are billions of children around the world. And there are hundreds of things about me. I can’t tell you all in a day! We are great pals. I’ll visit you sometime next year, O.K.? I’m busy during the Christmas period. I can visit your house everyday except December 15th to January 10th. Time is up now. Bye!’ Polayne smiled and bid Angela goodbye. She spread her silver wings and flew through the closed window. Her pretty long hair drifted in the wind. The star on her stick shone brightly. Her wide, big, silver wings were the brightest things in the dark sky.

Angela stood there silently, watching her friend fly through the sky, till Polayne’s slim figure disappeared in the sky.

 ......

(to be continued) 

 

 

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