The Ghosts Of Christmas Presents (Part Three)

So if I can pay the bill, you may be asking, what am I fussing about then?

Well . . . in part, as the trappings of the season (in theory) of “peace on Earth and good will to Man” fade away like spirits to be packed away until the next coming of the season, I can’t help but continue to reflect on how this bill could have destroyed someone else’s Christmas.  L. might be too little right now to understand things like bills and money, but if my Christmas had been ruined, it would have made his first Christmas that much less special, if only  in my memories.

Fortunately, it didn’t happen that way . . . but it was a near thing.

I’d like to thank luck for that, as well as foresight and planning, but as important as all those things were, in this particular case none of them deserve the lion’s share of the credit; that goes to plain old human generosity.

You see, people have been very generous in helping out with both L. and in preparing for his arrival.  Of course, it would be a lie to say that I couldn’t have done it without them, because I could have . . . I’d be a burnt out, useless wreck by now, but technically I still could have done it.  Even with that generosity though, the household’s financial reserves are at an all time low, and while they would have covered the bill, it would have driven the reserves that much lower and well into the zone where I officially started worrying.

Fortunately, someone who shall remain nameless (they know who they are) understood my situation and my answer of “Your banking information” when they asked me what I wanted for Christmas this year.  And while they didn’t go that far, their unexpected generosity arrived a few days before the bill, and meant that I could legitimately smile through Christmas, and even smile (however pained) when I pay the bill.  The ghost of that generosity will linger with me for some time, and this candle is for that nameless person so that L. can someday realize what kind of impact this person made in his first Christmas.

Thanks, Dad.

(What?  I said “nameless,” and that’s not his name, now is it?)


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