WELCOME TO

By

 Bill MacWithey

It was so cold, it felt as though the tears were freezing on his cheeks.  Bobby trudged through the nearly knee-deep snow, his head down and his heart broken.  All summer, he worked in people’s gardens, mowed lawns, then raked leaves in the fall and shoveled snow when winter hit.  All the work had but one purpose.  He had to buy his mother the new coat for Christmas.

When the winds of fall brought icy cold from the north, Bobby’s mother took him to the department store to buy him a new winter coat.  It would replace the ragged, worn-thin wool of his old coat.  But, as Bobby tried several coats on, he saw his mother stare longingly at the coat.  It was long, soft pink in color and had a fake fur collar that turned up around the neck to seal out the cold air.

He had saved his money to buy her something special for this Christmas, knowing she missed his daddy as much as he did.  Although Bobby had tried to be as kind and caring as possible to comfort his mother, it seemed the sadness in her eyes would never go away.  The coat.  That’s what he thought would chase away the cruel despair of loneliness from his mother’s life.

Things had not been all that good since he lost his father.  Just before his daddy passed away, he had told Bobby, "Son, you might be all your mother has one of these days.  You’ll take good care of her, won’t you?"

Although Bobby wasn’t aware at the time why his dad asked him such a thing, the words haunted him constantly.  How could he, a mere boy, take care of his mother?  Well, the coat was one way.  But now, he couldn’t even do that.  The fifty-seven dollars it would take to buy the coat and all the work he had done to earn it mattered not.  The money was gone.

Tucked into the small tobacco pouch, from which Bobby had watched his father fill his pipe so many times, he thought the money was safe.  It was in his jacket pocket when he left home, but after walking two miles through the snow and cold wind to the department store, Bobby discovered nothing but a small amount of lint in the coat pocket.   Now, he had traveled back and forth until it was nearly dark, retracing his route through the snow.  The pouch had disappeared.  Somewhere along his route, it had fallen from his pocket.

Bobby knew his mother would be worried sick about him, not knowing where he was all day.  When he left on his great adventure to buy the coat, he told her a fib.  He told her he was going to a friend’s house for a couple of hours.  Bobby would never lie to his mother, but he knew fibbing about this was okay, since he was going to the store to buy her the coat for Christmas.  She would probably be really upset with him for being gone so long.

His house sat on the edge of town where the city turned to country, so he walked now through a large open field, with a small scraggly bare tree here and there.  It was a very poor neighborhood, filled mostly with small frame house’s, whose back yards ran out into the field.  He had created a hard-packed path in the snow, from walking through the field at least four times, looking for the tobacco pouch.  Most likely, someone along his route had seen the pouch from their back window or back yard and retrieved it.  In the morning, he would knock on every back door along his route.  But, he had not seen any footprints in the snow leading out to his well-worn path.

Bobby stood and cried, his hands covering his face.  He had so looked forward to the huge smile he knew would light his mother’s face and eyes.  That smile had disappeared when his daddy was taken from them and hadn’t been seen since.  Then he became angry with himself for being so careless as to lose the pouch.  How could he have done such a thing?  How could he explain to his mother where he had been all day?  How could he explain to her why he didn’t have the money to buy her a gift?  He would search again tomorrow.  Perhaps he would just have to tell his mother the truth.  Bobby was as confused and unhappy as a little boy could be.

When he walked into the kitchen, eyes red from all the tears, his mother grabbed him in her arms and hugged him as she asked, "Where have you been all day?  What’s wrong?"

All he could do was bury his face against her shoulder and cry.  Finally, she pushed him slightly away, wiped at his eyes with her apron and said, " I’ve been worried sick, Bobby.  What’s wrong?"

Between sobs so deep they hurt his chest, Bobby answered, "I lost the money.  I lost the money for your Christmas present.  I looked for it all day!  It’s gone."  His voice trailed off to nearly a whisper as he said, "I lost my money, mama.  I was going to buy you that pretty coat you liked.  Now, I can’t buy you anything."

She sat in the chair and wrapped her arms around him again, drawing him tightly to her and brushing down his hair with her hand.  "I love you so much, Bobby.  You are gift enough.  I love you so much."

Now, he blurted out loudly, "But I wanted to buy you the coat!  I lost the money for the coat!"

She hugged him even closer and said, "It doesn’t matter.  It’s a sad thing for you, I know, but we have each other.  You must be starved.  I have a big pot of chicken soup made.  Take your coat off and wash your hands.  Things will look better with a full tummy."

He returned her hug, told her he loved her and that she was the best mom in the world.  Then, he went to the bathroom to wash his hands, draping his coat over the back of a chair as he left the room.

It had been a long, hard day for Bobby and, after eating his mom’s special chicken soup and three thick slices of homemade bread, he fell asleep sitting on the worn old sofa.  When he awakened the morning of Christmas Eve, the thought of the coat was the first thing on his mind.  As he sat and rubbed his eyes, Bobby wondered how he could have gone from the sofa to his bed without even remembering it.  He was in his pajamas, so his mother must have helped him. But, the smell from the kitchen drew him easily from the bed.

Bobby knew his mother was being extra nice and trying to be cheerful to make him feel better when she said, "Good morning, sleepyhead!"  Her smile was as wide as it was pretty.

He stood in the doorway, smiling back at her.  What a wonderful person she was.  And, boy, how hard it was for him to smile, when all he had on his mind was the lost money and the coat he couldn’t buy her.  The smell of pancakes and maple syrup forced the thoughts from his mind at least for the moment.

As they ate breakfast, he told his mother, "I must have dropped the money in the field.  I’m going to knock on everyone’s door to see if they found it."

The smile faded from her face as she said, "Bobby, honey, don’t be disappointed if you don’t find it.  I know you had quite a bit saved, and the neighbors on our street are good people, but they are poor like us.  If they found money laying on the ground, it is probably spent by now."

This statement erased his smile, as well.  What if someone had found it and spent it?   He would knock on doors, anyway.  But, when he stepped out the door, Bobby discovered the worst of things had happened overnight.  It had snowed again.  The fluffy white snow that falls when it is extremely cold was piled nearly to the edge of the porch.  He stood looking at it, wondering if he could find some walks and driveways to shovel over in the wealthy neighborhood where he usually worked.  Would people want to be bothered on Christmas Eve?  There was no way he could earn enough to buy the coat, but at least he could buy his mother something for Christmas.  But first, he would knock on some doors.

The first three houses, no one answered the door.  The fourth and fifth house, they said they were sorry, but they hadn’t found his tobacco pouch of money.   Bobby hadn’t met all the neighbors on his street, but he at least knew them by sight.  But the sixth house he approached sat on an extra large lot, half a block long, and he had never seen anyone out and about.  Yet, the yard was always well kept and neat. Perhaps this was the time to meet this neighbor.

There was one thing about this yard that wasn’t so neat.  At some time in the past, a wooden fence had been erected all across the back but, now, there were but small remnants here and there.  Most of the posts had rotted off at the bottom and fell over, taking most of the fence along.  But, at the corners of the yard were short sections of weathered old boards still standing.  Bobby wondered since the yard was so well kept, why wasn’t the fence repaired or the final rotting members taken down?

He had only left the house some ten minutes ago, and he was freezing cold.  The wind spurted in gusts just strong enough to blow the snow against his face hard enough to sting his cold cheeks.  But he had to keep trying.  As he walked past the corner section of surviving fence, he stopped and stared at the rose. There, inside the very corner of the rotted boards, was a beautiful bright yellow rose, perched atop a single green stem rising from the snow.  How could it be?  Bobby didn’t know a lot about flowers or roses, but he did know they just plain didn’t bloom in this kind of weather.  Everything, including the grass, the trees, the shrubs and plants, all were dead as could be this time of year.  No leaves, like this rose stem, no dark green stem at all, and certainly no bloom!  But there it was, big as life!

As Bobby stood stark still, the rose seeming to hypnotize him, he heard a small voice say, "Young man, what do you want?"  When he turned toward the voice, a woman small enough to match the voice stood in the middle of the yard, wrapped in a long woolen afghan.

"I’m sorry, Ma’am.  I, uh… I lost some money in a tobacco pouch in the field there somewhere.  I’ve been asking everyone if they might have found it."

"Well, it’s freezing cold out here.  Come inside for a minute and get warm."

Now, normally, Bobby would never think of going into a stranger’s house, but this wrinkled old lady surely couldn’t be any sort of threat.  And, he was freezing cold.  The offer of warmth was too tempting.  Inside, he was surprised to find a roaring fire in the fireplace, as she led him to a seat in front of the fire.

"I’ll bet you would like to have some hot chocolate. I was just making some when I saw you out there." Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared through a doorway, and half a minute later returned with two big mugs of hot chocolate and sat them on the coffee table.  Again, she walked through the door and returned with a large plate of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies.  "My George loved hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies in front of the fireplace."

Bobby had no chance to ask who George was.  "George, that was my husband.  Married almost sixty-five years when he passed away.  Sure do miss him."

"I’m sorry he passed away, Ma’am.  My daddy passed away exactly a year ago today."

Her eyes showed her sorrow for him. "Oh, I’m so sorry… What did you say your name was?"

Bobby smiled at her and said, "I didn’t, Ma’am, but it is Bobby.  Bobby Hardaway."

"Well, Bobby Hardaway, I really am sorry you lost your daddy.  Must be awful hard on a boy.  You have brothers and sisters?"

"No, Ma’am.  Just my mother and me."   Bobby was fascinated by the fact that he had never thought about being an only child until now.  It would be nice to have a brother, or even a sister.  He wondered why his mama only had him.

"You say you lost your money?  I’ll bet you were going to buy your mother a Christmas present with it, weren’t you?"

Bobby sipped again at the hot chocolate and said, "Yes, Ma’am."  He hung his head down, not wanting this kind old lady to see the sadness in his eyes and detect the emptiness in his heart.  "Now, I can’t buy her anything."

The old woman took his hand in her gnarled fingers and smiled.  "Bobby, sometimes the best gift isn’t what you can buy with money.  Do you and your mom love each other?"

"Well, yes, of course."

"Then you are already giving her the greatest gift you could ever imagine.  To be loved by someone you love is something money can’t buy.  That was always George’s and my gift to one another.  We loved each other more than anything else in our lives.  Sadly, we never had any children.  Would’ve liked to have some, but never did.  I guess we were just meant to be a twosome family."  She smiled broadly, evidently thinking of her husband.

Bobby had finished his hot chocolate, was warm to the middle and was anxious to get on with knocking on doors.  "Ma’am, I really appreciate everything.  The hot chocolate and cookies, and letting me get warm."

"I know, I know, you have to be on your way.  I sure have enjoyed your company, Bobby, but I do want to tell you again before you go, if you don’t find the money, don’t dwell on it or not being able to buy something for your mama.  Like I say, love.  That’s the very best gift."

As he rose to leave, Bobby stopped and asked, "Ma’am?  Do you know there’s a beautiful yellow rose blooming out there?"

She chuckled as only Bobby had heard from the few very old people he had met in his young life.  "Yes, I saw you looking at it.  Let me get a pair of scissors.  Cut the rose off about a foot below the bloom and bring it in to me before you go.  Would you do that for me?"

"Sure.  Yes, of course I will."

The wind had picked up and was blowing steadily, as he trudged through the ever-deeper snow that had drifted about the rose.  He was glad to be back inside her door, the rose and scissors in his hand, extended to her.

"Wait just a minute while I find something."  She went into a pantry, returned with a very pretty cut glass vase and placed the rose in it.  Then, she opened a drawer and removed several sheets of tissue paper, wrapping them around the vase and rose.  "You take this rose to your mother.  It will be the best gift you could give her, because a rose is the symbol of love."

He really didn’t know what to make of the old lady.  She was probably lonely, here in this big house all alone.  "Thank you, Ma’am.  Thank you very much.  Mom will love it."

"You tell your mama to keep the vase full of water and it will last a long time."

Bobby again made his way through the snow, having forgotten all about looking further for his money. His mother was all smiles when she saw the rose.

"Where on earth did you get this?" She poured water in the vase and set it in the middle of the table. "I have never seen such a beautiful yellow. And it is so large."

"The old lady up the street gave it to me for you.  She said it would be a nice Christmas gift."

"What old lady?

Bobby realized he had no idea what the woman’s name was.  "She lives in a house up the street a ways."

"Well, I’m going to wrap a loaf of this home-made bread up for you to take to her.  You want to go back out in the cold just one more time?"

"Sure.  I’ll take it to her.  She gave me hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies.  She’s real nice."

As he walked to the rear door, the old lady opened it and ushered him in.  It was almost as if she expected him.  He had given her the bread and was about to leave, but had to ask about that rose growing out of the snow.  "Ma’am, how can that rose grow right out of the snow like that?"

She smiled and got that far away look in her eye that he had only seen in his mother’s eyes when she was thinking about his daddy.  "George planted that rose the month before he went away.  He told me that every time I wanted to be close to him to look at the rosebush and remember.  He passed away on Christmas Eve also, just like your father.  Every year since then, that rose blooms on Christmas Eve.  It is George’s gift to me each Christmas.  There is magic in that rose, somehow."

Bobby looked out at the rose stem where he had cut the rose as she spoke. He couldn’t believe his eyes! Another huge fully opened yellow rose sat atop the stem.  "Ma’am, how could that rose be there?  No way could another rose grow that fast.  And, it’s winter out there!"  Her smile would haunt Bobby all his life.  What an absolutely beautiful lady she was.

"I don’t know, Bobby.  Every year, I give a rose to someone and a new one comes right back.  It’s as if it is a miracle.  A gift from George, and when I give one away, he makes another appear."

Bobby hurried home against the wind, anxious to tell his mother about the rose blooming again, but as he reached the steps to the porch, he knew he couldn’t tell her.  She would think he had gone completely silly.  So, he didn’t mention it when he saw his mother sitting at the table, staring at the rose.

"Did you get the bread to her?"

"Yes.  Are you okay, mom?"

She smiled broadly at him and answered, "Sure, but you’ll probably think I’ve lost my marbles.  Somehow, when I look at this rose, I feel very close to your daddy.  It’s almost as if he is in the room with me."

She continued to look at the rose every chance she had until bedtime, when she took the vase and set it in her room on the dresser.

His mother shouting at him awakened Bobby the following morning. What in the world could be wrong, now? He hopped out of bed and ran to the living room.  His mother stood before the beautiful coat from the department store, draped across the sofa.  It wasn’t the pretty pink coat that she liked, but the exact same yellow as the rose.  Next to it, in a box was a nice shirt, a pair of dress slacks and a shiny new pair of shoes, all Bobby’s size.  There was also an envelope atop the clothes and a tall brown paper bag in the end of the box.

Bobby and his mother both stood staring at it all, lost in a state of bewilderment.  Finally, his mother said, "How… who…"  Her voice tapered off, as she continued softly, "How did all this get here?"

As Bobby told her he had no idea, he picked up the envelope and opened it.  Sixty-seven dollars!  That was exactly what he had lost!  "MOM!  LOOK!  THE MONEY!"  He stared in utter disbelief.  When he opened the brown paper bag, there was a rose bush wrapped like it came from the nursery.  The picture on the side showed a large yellow rose, just like the one sitting on the table in the kitchen.

Bobby’s mother had slipped the coat on and stood before the large mirror on the wall, tears tumbling down her cheeks.  Bobby watched her and smiled to see her so happy.  Then, he looked back to the rose and read the name, MIRACLE ROSE.  Only the old lady could have known and done all this.  But how could she get in the house with all these things?  Bobby looked out the window to discover it was barely daylight, and he couldn’t wait to go see the old lady.

His mother insisted he have breakfast before going, and she told him to invite the lady for dinner.

After gobbling down his food, he quickly threw his coat on and walked through the snow in pretty sunlight, with no wind to freeze his nose off.  When knocking on the rear door of her house brought no response, Bobby walked around to the front door and knocked several times, each time harder, thinking perhaps she didn’t hear so well.  He was about to walk away and come back a little later.  She was most likely a sound sleeper and still in bed.

As he walked down the old stone steps, a man came from the house across the street and yelled at him.  "What you looking for, boy?"

"I was looking for the lady who lives here."

"Ain’t been nobody lived there since old Mrs. McCoy died about five years ago.  Husband died the year before her."  He smiled and said, "Really funny thing.  They both died on Christmas Eve, exactly a year apart.  We went to her funeral.  Only relative she had was a son up in Cleveland.  He came to the funeral, but no one could figure it out.  Not even the son.  She was a really nice old lady.  Loved yellow roses.  You know, someone sent about a hundred big yellow roses for her funeral.  That’s what we never figured out, who done it."

Bobby smiled at him, thinking, "I’ll bet I know who sent them."

"Yep, since she died, the son has asked me to take care of the place and look after it.  Pays me fifty a month.  Pretty good pay fer just takin’ care of the yard."

"Then, you take care of the rosebush out back."

"What rosebush?  Ain’t no rosebush out there, son.  Used to be. That’s another sorta strange thing.  This really pretty yellow rosebush usta be there, but the day of the old ladies funeral, after the son asked me to take care of things, I came over ta look around ta see what needed doin’.  That rosebush was gone.  No sign it had ever been there.  Really strange."

"I saw it.  It has to be there.  You sure there isn’t an old lady still living here?"

When the man looked at him, slowly moving his head from side to side, likely thinking this boy had some sort of problem, Bobby decided it was time to go home.

As he returned to the field behind the house, he stood for a moment staring where the rosebush had been. Nothing but snow, with a few rotten fence boards peeking through.  Bobby walked home, knowing he surely must be some part of a miracle.  The lady HAD been there.  The rosebush HAD been there.  The old lady HAD given him the rose, the hot chocolate and the chocolate chip cookies.   With a smile of knowing something special had taken place, he looked up into the clear, blue morning sky and said, "I’m going to plant a rosebush right out in the snow for Mom.  Dad, for you, too."