The Puppy and the Orphan Page 4

  ‘You know, Mother, you might just be right on this one occasion,’ Nancy replied.

  Mother raised her eyebrows. ‘Just this once, Nancy?’

  At that point the room erupted into screams that could be heard as far as Sandyford Road as Santa made his entrance.

  The helpers were trying desperately to get the children into an organised line – not a job for the faint-hearted – and Nancy hurried forward to help. The noise was so loud you had to shout to be heard. ‘At least they’ll get it all out of their systems and be worn out by bedtime,’ Nancy yelled to Sister Mary Joseph.

  The room was awash with wrapping paper as the children ripped open their gifts from Santa. Nancy, naturally, was running around picking it all up. One of the helpers tapped her on the shoulder and said, ‘Please let us do that. We can tidy up afterwards.’

  ‘Tidy up?’ said Nancy. ‘I’m not tidying up! I’m gathering all the paper to make decorations next Christmas.’ She hurried off to her attic of treasures to put it all in a box. Waste not, want not, was Nancy’s motto.

  She made it back in time to see the last of the nursery children receiving their gifts from Santa. Mother Superior and Sister Mary Joseph stood at each side of his chair so they could hear the children telling him what they wanted for Christmas. Nancy made her way over with a question in her eyes and Mother nodded. All had gone to plan. One by one they had whispered their hopes and dreams to Santa.

  ‘A doll’s house, please, Santa.’

  ‘Please can I have lots of pretty doll furniture.’

  ‘A doll’s house, Santa, just like in Aunty Nancy’s stories.’

  ‘Furniture with little beds, please, Santa.’

  ‘A blue bike to ride around the playroom.’

  Nancy stretched her hand out to Billy, who was last in the queue. ‘Go on, darling,’ she said.

  Billy stood for a moment, then walked right up to Santa.

  ‘Well, young man, what would you like for Christmas.’

  Billy grinned and his eyes twinkled for the very first time since he’d arrived at the orphanage.

  ‘Oh, how wonderful,’ said Mother, making the sign of the cross in thanks.

  ‘Oh, isn’t Christmas just magic, Mother?’ said Sister Mary Joseph.

  Santa smiled at Billy and leaned forward.

  Mother and Sister Mary Joseph leaned in closer as Billy whispered in Santa’s ear. ‘Please, Santa, I would like a train for Christmas.’

  Everyone looked at Nancy.

  ‘Oh, joy,’ she said.

  Answered Prayers

  After the party there was pandemonium. The children were all overexcited, except the two who were asleep on pillows in the corner. Nancy hurried over to them. Sister Mary Joseph saw the look of thunder on her face and tried to escape, but bumped into Mother Superior. ‘Sorry, Mother – have you seen Nancy’s face? This means trouble, although I can’t think why.’

  Nancy was waking the sleeping pair, who began to cry as all the other children took the opportunity to begin running around the room.

  Sister Mary Joseph bravely turned to her. ‘I thought they needed a little sleep.’

  ‘Oh, did you, Sister? And on the one night of the year, you know, it being Christmas Eve, when I struggle to get them off to sleep, with all the excitement, you thought it would be good to let them sleep just before bedtime, did you?’

  Sister Mary Joseph’s shoulders sagged and Nancy felt ashamed. She hadn’t any idea how she would manage without Sister Mary Joseph, especially as Dolly, her helper, was away visiting family tonight. ‘Come on, Sister,’ she said, ‘let’s get the children upstairs without getting battered and bruised if we can.’

  The children all clambered up the stairs leading to the nursery. As they started up the stairs, there were cries of ‘Aunty Nancy, I feel sick!’ and ‘I need carried,’ and ‘She kicked me!’ and ‘I don’t want to go to bed!’ And so it went on. It took a back-breaking two hours to get them all bathed and into their pyjamas and Nancy was feeling out of sorts. Normally she took everything in her stride.

  Sister Mary Joseph wondered what was wrong, but they were so busy there was no time to ask. Maybe when the children were settled they could have a much-needed cup of tea together and put their feet up. ‘Feet up and a cuppa,’ she said. ‘How wonderful.’

  ‘Yes, about midnight that will be, at this rate,’ shouted Nancy, over the din.

  Eventually, after a lot of fuss and many tears, the children went to the dining room to choose biscuits and a glass of milk for Santa and the reindeer. There was an argument as to which biscuit was best, and then someone spilled the milk. Nancy closed her eyes and counted to ten. ‘Just remind me whose idea it was to have a Christmas party today,’ she said, but she was smiling. ‘Come along, children,’ she called. ‘Santa will be here again in no time at all and those not in bed won’t get presents.’

  ‘What if he doesn’t come back?’ one child, Mary, asked. ‘He might forget us tonight if he’s already been here.’

  Normally Nancy would have come up with a plausible explanation as to why he would not forget, but not tonight. ‘You see, Sister Mary Joseph, what happens when you go against tradition?’

  Mary opened her mouth to ask again, but Nancy swept her up and into bed, kissed her and said, ‘It’s magic and that’s that.’

  As the children settled, Nancy’s eyes turned to Billy. He was smiling and her heart sank. Was it because he thought Santa would bring him a train? she wondered. He was still hardly talking. How would he feel if he thought Santa had forgotten him? She still hadn’t found out why the sky fascinated him. What on earth am I to do? she worried, as she fussed about getting the children tucked in. Really, this year had been sorted out. There had been no worries about toys for the children because plenty of donations had come through. All the gifts were wrapped. ‘How can everything go so wrong?’ she muttered to herself. She sighed, then went down the corridor to the kitchen where Sister Mary Joseph was waiting for her.

  ‘Kettle’s whistling,’ Sister called, when she heard Nancy’s footsteps, but after a couple of minutes had passed and Nancy hadn’t appeared, she popped her head around the door. The corridor was empty. Sister Mary Joseph checked everywhere, the dormitory, the playroom, the television room, the dining room, then knocked on Nancy’s door. No answer. Where on earth could she be?

  At that moment the door at the top of the nursery stairs opened and Mother Superior came through. ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, Mother, it’s Nancy. She was walking down the corridor, then disappeared.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Mother. ‘I think I know where she may be. I heard a bit of a commotion in the attic as I was walking up the stairs. Maybe we should check there.’ Slowly they made their way up the stairs as the crashing and clattering above them got louder. ‘Nancy,’ Mother called, as she reached the top of the attic staircase.

  Nancy was sitting among what seemed like hundreds of boxes full of old toys and anything else she had decided shouldn’t be thrown away. She was covered with dust and her face was flushed. ‘Nancy, whatever is the matter?’ Mother said. She tried to get closer to Nancy to comfort her, but it was impossible with all those boxes on the floor.

  Nancy looked up. Mother’s heart hurt to see the expression on her face. ‘Oh, Mother, I can’t find a train. There isn’t even a book about trains. I should have remembered Billy told the children his favourite toys were trains when he first arrived. Now he’s asked Santa for one and I simply don’t know what to do. Oh, poor Billy.’

  Mother Superior pushed aside the boxes and reached for Nancy’s hand without a word. She understood how she felt. That was enough.

  Mother and Sister Mary Joseph insisted on helping Nancy to clear up as she wouldn’t leave her treasures in a mess, and after a good half-hour everything was back in order. The three made their way to the nursery kitchenette for a fresh pot of tea. It should have been an evening of laughter and excitement but it was a sad threesome who sat qu
ietly together.

  ‘He still doesn’t say much,’ Nancy told Mother. ‘I can’t get him to talk to me. I’ve never failed a child yet, Mother, and I don’t want little Billy to be the first.’

  Mother patted her hand. ‘God will find a way,’ she said.

  ‘Well, He’d better get a move because it’s Christmas Day tomorrow,’ Nancy said angrily. They cleared up together and Mother told Nancy they would all pray at the service later that night, then made her way downstairs with an extremely heavy heart.

  It was dark in Nancy’s room so she lit the little lamp in the corner, then sat on the edge of her bed looking at her holy pictures. She bowed her head in prayer. ‘Help me,’ she said.

  Later that evening she made her way downstairs and through the big door that led to the chapel. It looked so peaceful. There were lots of candles lit all around her and the nativity crib stood on the altar. Nancy sighed as she made the sign of the cross and went to sit beside Sister Mary Joseph at the front. The sound of the nuns in prayer was soothing as she gazed up at the cross above the altar. It’s Christmas Eve. Please help me, she prayed, over and over again. A short while later, when the prayers were over, Mother told the sisters to leave and have their supper. ‘I will follow shortly.’

  There was silence in the chapel as Mother went to sit next to Nancy. Nancy cares so much, she thought, but then she always had. Mother had lost count of all the times Nancy had been called on to calm an unruly child, wipe their tears and make presents out of nothing but rags and buttons. Experience told her that no words would comfort Nancy: it was a miracle they needed. They sat quietly for a while until Mother patted Nancy’s hand. ‘Come along. Come and share supper with us. We cannot have you with a heavy heart on Christmas Eve.’

  Mother looked around her. ‘The chapel looks especially splendid this year, Nancy. You’ve done a wonderful job. The decorations are beautiful. The children have all worked extremely hard. You must be so proud of them.’ Mother knew the only thing that calmed Nancy was to talk about the children. ‘I’m sure the lady mayor will thoroughly enjoy the nativity play. There are more people than I imagined coming this year.’ Mother continued to chat as they made their way up the aisle. ‘We may even have to bring in some extra chairs,’ she said.

  Suddenly Nancy stopped and grabbed Mother’s hand. ‘Chairs!’ she shouted. ‘Oh, Mother, chairs! Thank you, God, thank you, thank you, thank you.’

  ‘Really, Nancy!’ Mother was shocked. ‘Please remember where we are!’ But Nancy was gone. Mother stood alone in the silence. She turned to face the Cross of Our Lord and smiled, then bowed her head and left for her supper.

  The Ragdoll Express

  Nancy’s heart was beating fast. As she raced up the nursery stairs she had to stop and take a breath. She burst through the door and found Sister Mary Joseph, ready to join the other nuns for supper. She saw Nancy’s flushed face. ‘Oh, Nancy, whatever now?’

  ‘Chairs, Sister Mary Joseph! Chairs.’

  ‘Chairs, Nancy?’

  Nancy was grinning as she grabbed Sister Mary Joseph’s hand and dragged her towards the dining room. Once there, Nancy picked up two of the little chairs and put them beside each other. Then another two behind them, and she repeated the process until suddenly Sister Mary Joseph squealed with delight. ‘Oh, Nancy, how clever of you.’ She picked up her rosary beads and kissed them.

  ‘Come along, Sister, we have work to do,’ said Nancy. ‘I promise you tea and an extremely large piece of Cook’s cake for supper in the kitchen afterwards.’

  ‘Well now,’ said Sister Mary Joseph, ‘who could say no to that?’

  Sister Mary Joseph was on lookout at the door of the dormitory as Nancy quietly carried the chairs one by one into the long corridor, placing them in a line, two by two, with one special chair at the front. As the children slept soundly, Nancy wrote each child’s name on a slip of paper, then put one on each chair. Only one name was missing. Nancy smiled and wrote it down, then placed it on the seat at the front. Together Sister Mary Joseph and Nancy crept up and down the corridor draping tinsel along the sides of the chairs. They stood back and admired their handiwork. ‘It’s missing something,’ Nancy whispered, and together they stood looking at the train, wondering what it could be. ‘I know,’ Nancy mouthed, and hurried off. Sister Mary Joseph closed her eyes and dreamed of a hot cup of tea and a slice of cake. She leaned against the passage wall, opened her eyes and looked longingly down the corridor, hoping Nancy wouldn’t be long.

  Ten minutes later, Nancy was back, waving something in her hands. ‘Remember summer, Sister, when we had all the games in the school playground? Well, look what I found!’

  ‘Well done!’ Sister Mary Joseph said.

  ‘Come along now, Sister,’ Nancy whispered. ‘Let’s go and have that cup of tea.’

  ‘Not forgetting the cake!’

  Nancy laughed. ‘Definitely not forgetting the cake, Sister.’ She turned the big lights off in the corridor, leaving only a dim lamp at the end. As they walked away, Nancy paused only once, to place the very special gift on the chair at the front.

  It was nearly midnight when they washed up their cups and plates. ‘Happy Christmas, Sister,’ said Nancy, but Sister Mary Joseph was already yawning, on her way to the nuns’ quarters and her much-needed bed.

  Nancy went to her room, far too excited to feel sleepy. The moon shone through the many windows along the corridor and lit the tinsel, which sparkled in the dark. There it stood in all its glory: ‘Welcome aboard the Christmas train,’ she said, smiling.

  As she got ready for bed she looked upon her holy pictures. ‘You cut that one a bit fine,’ she said. She lay down, thinking she would never sleep. Nancy was wrong. She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  She was woken at six by the bell ringing from the chapel roof outside her bedroom window and jumped out of bed. She dressed hastily, then ran along the corridor to see to the children. There was great excitement as they leaped up to grab the beautifully decorated socks hanging at the end of each bed. Nancy had sewn pretty ribbon onto them and a little bell. Oranges and sweets for everyone, handkerchiefs for the girls, little toy cars for the boys. Then the children’s eyes fell upon the presents in the middle of the floor.

  Sister Mary Joseph arrived just as Martha shouted, ‘Look! It’s a doll’s house!’ The children all ran over to it, shrieking with delight over the tiny furniture. Meanwhile the boys had spotted the bikes and were now riding round the dormitory, squealing with excitement. Billy sat on his bed and watched. Nancy thought she had never seen a sadder sight in her entire life. She hadn’t the heart to disturb them yet so she let them continue to play for a little longer, then went over to Billy’s bed. ‘You know, I do believe I heard Santa in the corridor last night. I can’t think why he was there, can you?’ Billy shook his head. ‘Maybe he was leaving something special for you.’ Still no answer. Nancy picked Billy up and swung him around. ‘It’s Christmas Day, little Billy Miller, and I know for sure there’s something just outside this door that’s for nobody but you. Now, do you want to know what it is?’ Billy nodded. ‘Then tell me,’ Nancy said, and waited.

  ‘Yes, Aunty Nancy,’ he replied quietly, but with a little smile.

  Nancy gathered the children around her. ‘There is something very special in the corridor. Come along, children, hurry now.’ She put Billy down, grabbed his hand and together they made their way into the corridor.

  Nancy almost held her breath. The children were all shouting at once but she hushed them. Billy walked slowly forward and touched one of the chairs. Then the children began shouting once more.

  ‘Santa must have been ever so quiet!’

  ‘Can we play with it now?’

  ‘What is it?’

  Billy turned to face them all with a huge grin ‘It’s a train,’ he said. ‘It’s a train, it’s a train, it’s a train!’

  There was chaos and excitement as they ran around in the corridor, Nancy and Sister Mary Jo
seph helping them to find their names on the labels and sitting in their own seats on the Christmas train. Billy ran up and down, looking more and more puzzled that no one had taken him to his seat. He went up to Nancy, who took his hand and led him to the seat at the front of the train. ‘Do you know what that word says?’ she asked Billy. He shook his head. ‘It says “driver”. That’s you, Billy.’ There was only a moment’s pause before Billy sat down. There was one more surprise. It was on the seat beside him. He looked at it, then back at Nancy. ‘It’s on your seat so it must be for you. Go on, Billy, open it.’ The children all leaned forward, trying to see what the special gift was. He ripped the paper off and held it up for them all to see.

  ‘It’s a whistle!’ the children shouted. ‘Go on, Billy, blow it!’ There was a piercing shriek as little Billy blew it for all he was worth, and Nancy hastily covered her ears. He still had little to say but he was smiling and his eyes were bright with joy for the first time since he had arrived.

  ‘What’s the train called?’ the children were shouting now.

  Nancy thought for a moment. ‘How about the Ragdoll Express?’

  ‘Yippee!’ the children shouted, as Billy blew the whistle once more.

  Nancy could not have been happier. The children were all still in their night clothes but were having the time of their lives. For the first time in the history of Nazareth House, Christmas breakfast would be late and Cook would not be pleased, but Nancy didn’t care one jot. She walked over to Billy and ruffled his hair. ‘Where to then, Billy?’ she said.

  Billy turned his head to look out of the window and pointed to the sky.

  Nancy understood perfectly.

  ‘To the stars in the sky it is then.’ She smiled as Billy lifted the whistle to his mouth and blew it again.

  To the Stars and Back Again