It was a night before Christmas.
Clara stood in the rain. She watched as the old woman made her way to the limo, a helper hoisting an umbrella over her as she cuddled two brown shopping bags.
Lights were up in many buildings. Shoppers rang bells for Christmas sales. Adults and children jostled and shoved around her as the busy street bustle with activity.
“Move!” The honk of the horn ricked her back to the present. She skipped away from the middle of the road as the driver spewed curses at her as he zoomed off.
Clara knew what awaited her at the house. And she was not disappointed. She had hoped that Christmas would be different. That maybe mama would love her more.. or at least pay attention to her for once. Maybe take her out to buy a new dress. But in the last few days leading up to Christmas eve, mama seemed to run on a bad temper.
She unlocked the front door and flipped the switch. The lights were out.
Using the light from her phone, she made her way to the centre table. Mama left a note on the table.
Dinner in warmer. Out on night shift. Mama.
She sighed as she crumpled the brown paper and tossed into a nearby trash can.
As always, she would be alone and there would be no special times or gifts this year. Without family and friends, the house would be boring.
No love, no hope. And it was Christmas.
As Theresa stepped into the Limo, she looked through the window at the little girl that seemed to lock gazes with her. She looked so innocent, so free. She must be happy this Christmas.
If Sarah were alive, she would have been just a bit older. Well, if she had lived, she would have named her Sarah.
But she had spent her hey days living in the spotlights of Nollywood. If only she knew that she had one chance at conception. She would not have sacrificed Sarah to the Women’s clinic when she felt she was too happy to have a child.
Matthew’s pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Now, he was gone. No offspring. No love.
Christmas was bland now. If only her life could revert to the Christmas before she signed up for acting school. She would make better decisions.
Ismail pulled into the driveway, thoughts far from the present. Last Christmas was a swell time at the club. Her boss had promised to pay – this night would be fun too.
As soon as removed the key from the ignition, Farida came to mind. And the accident last year… He pictured the disappointment in his wife’s face when he walked into the hospital lobby that night, alcohol and vomitus staining his shit after the call, and couldn’t produce money for the hospital bills.
“Nothing would happen.” He consoled himself. It was Christmas anyway.
NOTE: This Christmas, around you, someone will need love, a message of hope and restoration, a gift of family or even a nice dress or food. Will you be able to offer something significant?
Think towards Christmas… and look for ways you can share of the fullness of Jesus you have received.