Tidings of Comfort… and JOY

Madeleine opened up the camera on her phone, aimed it at Amy, and pressed the start button. “Go ahead!” 

Amy picked up the colourfully wrapped square box with a bow stuck to the top. She weighed it carefully in her hands and shook it. Something tumbled inside. She tapped at it and listened. Empty air carried the vibrations within and bounced them back. It was hollow. Then she ever so carefully peeled the tape back from the wrapping. The paper ripped. Amy frowned. 

Madeleine smiled at her encouragingly. “Don’t worry, your present’s still there, ready and waiting for you.” 

She remembered when Amy first came to them with the social worker. She never touched anything back then. Even the air was like a demon to her, ready to strangle her at any wrong move. 

“I’m so glad I learned how to wrap gifts with only one piece of tape.” Jorge laughed beside her. “Social media can be wonderful… sometimes.”

Amy frowned as the tear got bigger as she peeled the tape back even though she was holding down the rest of the wrapping paper so it wouldn’t. She looked up. “Can I have a pair of scissors, please?”

“Jorge, dear, can you get them from the kitchen, please?” Madeleine swung her phone towards his face.

Jorge smiled, poked her nose, and got up. “Only for my two sweethearts.” 

She turned the camera back towards Amy. She was the only one who’d changed into her day clothes; she wore a yellow Mickey Mouse shirt, jeans with a rip on one knee, and Grinch socks. 

“Are you excited?” Madeleine asked.

Amy nodded.

“What do you think you’re gonna get?”

Amy shrugged. “I dunno.”

Madeleine put her fingers together. “Are you this excited?” 

Amy shook her head.

Madeleine put her hands shoulder width apart.“Are you this excited?”

Amy shook her head. 

Madeleine put her hands even wider. “Are you this excited?” 

Amy shook her head.

“Then how excited are you? Show me!”

Amy’s face broke out into a smile, showing the gap in her teeth where she’d lost a tooth last Tuesday. “I’m this excited!” She stretched her hands as wide as she possibly could.

Clink.

A red ornament had fallen from the Christmas tree where Amy had accidentally knocked it off. It rolled across the floor.

Madeleine’s giggling trailed off as Amy’s face fell. Silence filled the room. 

“I’m sorry,” Amy whispered.

“No, honey, it’s okay,” Madeleine rushed to fill in the gap. “We can just put it back on the tree. See? Here, all good as new.”

Amy shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

Madeleine had bought shatter-proof ornaments when she and Jorge had first talked about having children. After a few years without children, she’d begun to think she had bought them for nothing. Even when she put them up this year with Amy around, Amy was always too scared to touch the Christmas tree anyway. Now she was thankful.

“I finally found the scissors!” Jorge announced, walking into the living room. “It took me forever, because someone, my dear wife, put them…” He paused. “What happened?”

“I made the ornament fall off the tree. I’m sorry!” Her voice trembled.

“Oh, dear.” Jorge came and crouched down beside Amy. “Is it broken?”

She shook her head.

Jorge took an ornament off the tree. He dropped it on the ground. “Did it break?” he asked.

Her chin trembled. She shook her head.

“That’s why we bought them. You don’t need to be perfect. We’ve got you. You can have fun. That’s what this is for. We truly want the best for you.”

Amy nodded.

“Do you want to open your present now?” Jorge asked.

“Okay.” Amy said.

Jorge handed her the scissors. Amy cut through the tape. She unravelled the wrapping paper, and gasped. She giggled, her beautiful, lovely, special giggle. 

“Thank you!” Amy said.

Madeleine sighed and picked Amy up, drawing her close. “We love you, Amy Favela.”

“I love you too,” she paused, “Mom.”