Turbulence-2-17
1483 Words
“You should try the raspberry jam, too.” Mrs. Winters passed the jar across the table. “We had a bumper crop this year.”
After Kennedy was already past the point of full saturation, Mrs. Winters bent over the oven and pulled out dessert. “Here we have some strawberry rhubarb pie. Willow, did you get that whipped cream from the water room?”
Willow scooted back her chair. “No, I’ll grab it now.” She sprinted downstairs.
“The fridge was so full, we had to store a few things down there where it’s cold,” Mrs. Winters explained as she sliced through the flaky crust and heaped a generous portion on Kennedy’s plate. “Now don’t eat it yet. Wait for Willow. Have you ever had fresh whipped cream?”
“Not from a cow I’ve actually met,” Kennedy answered.
Willow came up with a jar full of whipped cream and heaped two dollops on Kennedy’s pie.
“Now eat it fast before it melts,” Mr. Winters told her.
“No, that’s the best part when it’s all runny,” Willow argued.
After dessert was tea, an herbal blend Mrs. Winters harvested and dried herself. “Do you like honey in yours?” she asked.
Kennedy nodded and held out her mug for a spoonful.
“Our bees did such a good job this year. Nothing like raw honey. Remind me, and I’ll send some back with you to school. Great for allergies, you know.”
Kennedy didn’t think she had room for anything else in her stomach, but she’d been wrong. She sipped the tea slowly, enjoying the warmth and sweetness as it slid down her throat. “This is probably the most unique Christmas dinner I’ve ever had.”
Mrs. Winters beamed at her across the table. “We’re just glad you two girls are safe.”
Kennedy stared at her plate. Some memories would spoil even the most abundant Christmas feast.
Willow’s mom reached out and grabbed Kennedy’s hand. “And we’re glad our daughter’s found such a good friend as you.”
“That’s right,” her dad added. “Since her first day at Harvard last year, we’ve been hearing about you. How good you are with your studies, how respectful a roommate you are.”
Kennedy glanced at Willow who shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. “Dad,” she whined.
“What? When you have a good friend, it’s important they know how you feel. It’s not everybody who gets so lucky finding a best friend their first year of college.”
“Dad,” she repeated in the same tone.
“Ok. Ok.” He raised his hands in surrender.
“But before we forget, we do have something for you.” Mrs. Winters scooted her chair back. “To show you how much we appreciate your friendship with Willow.” She passed Kennedy a small package wrapped in thick brown paper. “I found this at a craft bizarre I was selling at last month. The lady at the booth next to me had these beautiful handmade crosses, and I remembered Willow saying you’re a Christian, and I thought you would love this.”
Kennedy stared at the heavy crucifix in her hand.
“See the detail?” Mrs. Winters pointed to Jesus’ brow. “See the thorns? It’s so intricate. I hope you like it.” She raised a questioning eyebrow.
“It’s really nice,” Kennedy stammered, “and very thoughtful.” She’d never owned a crucifix before. Never even considered owning one, but she recognized the great amount of consideration that went into the present.
“She’s not Catholic, Mom,” Willow muttered.
“Well, how was I to know?” Mrs. Winters replied. “You said Christian. You didn’t say anything else, so I just had to guess.”
Mr. Winters cleared his throat. “We’re a spiritual family, Kennedy,” he explained, “and you probably already know this about us. We don’t subscribe to one particular religion over any other, but we do consider ourselves people of faith. I was wondering if you had any Christmas traditions from your family or upbringing you’d like to share. It must be lonely with your parents doing their mission work all the way down in Africa ...”
“China,” Willow corrected.
“China,” her dad repeated, “so if you wanted, it would be an honor if you shared some of your family’s traditions with us.”
Kennedy wasn’t ready to pull a Christmas Eve sermon out of her sleeve. She took another sip of tea. “Well, my dad always reads from Luke. That’s the story of when Jesus was born. It starts with ...”
“Well, don’t tell us,” Willow’s dad interrupted. “You say your dad reads it. So read it to us.”
Willow stood up. “I’ll go grab the Bible from upstairs. I know where it is.”
Mr. and Mrs. Winters exchanged somewhat quizzical looks. While Kennedy waited for Willow to return, she stared around the Winters’ dining room. A giant moose head hung on the wall, not what she expected as the décor for her vegan roommate’s childhood home. Willow’s grandmother had sewn several other arctic-themed quilts that were hung on the walls or draped over couches. In the far corner of the living room was a little library. On one side was a leather reclining chair next to a pile of fishing and hunting magazines and a shelf full of Greek classics. Right beside it was a rocking chair and a bookcase laden with National Geographic, The New Yorker, and literary fiction titles in pristine hardback. Kennedy tried to picture her roommate growing up as the only child out here in the middle of nowhere.
A minute later, Willow came downstairs with the Bible already open to Luke. Kennedy hadn’t realized chapter two was so long. She decided to stick to the part about the shepherds, and as she read, she had to work past a lump in her throat. This was her second Christmas away from family. As kind and open-hearted as the Winters were, Kennedy missed home.
When she finished the passage, Willow’s mom leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “I just love that part about the angels, all singing together. Do you believe there are angels here on earth?” she asked.
Kennedy tried to throw together some sort of a stammered reply.
“I suppose anything’s possible, isn’t it?” Mrs. Winters finally concluded.
Willow’s dad leaned forward in his chair. “What next?” he asked.
Kennedy didn’t understand what he meant.
“Is that all your family does? I mean, Jesus is the Savior of the whole world according to Christian tradition. I figured his followers would have a lot more to-do surrounding the day of his holy birth.”
Kennedy glanced at Willow. Why hadn’t she warned her to come to dinner prepared? “Well, we usually sing some songs.”
Mrs. Winters clasped her hands together. “Beautiful! Would you like to use our piano?”
“I don’t play,” Kennedy hastened to explain. “I tried once, but ...”
“A capella it is then,” Willow’s dad declared with a thundering boom. “What should we start with? Silent Night?”
Kennedy’s throat clenched shut for just a moment as she remembered her last Christmas in Yanji, as she and her parents and the refugees in their Secret Seminary sang Silent Night in Korean.
“Perfect.” Mr. Winters breathed in deeply and started the carol for everyone.
As soon as they finished, Mrs. Winters jumped up from her chair. “Oh! What perfect timing. Take a look at this!” She scurried to the window as Willow’s dad leapt from his seat, turned off the overhead lights and extinguished the candles on the table.
Kennedy was about to ask what was going on when Mrs. Winters threw back the curtains. The sky danced with streaks of green splashing from one end of the horizon to the other.
“Ooh!” Mrs. Winters pointed. “Look at that purple. I haven’t seen it like that since Willow was little.”
Kennedy stood mesmerized as the northern lights flickered from one end of the sky to the other. After the flashes of green came streaks of pink and violet, rippling like ribbons waved by dancers on a stage.
Kennedy felt a hymn of joy and praise rising from somewhere deep within her soul, a place that had been lying dormant until this very moment, a depth her mind had never accessed before.
She had never loved her singing voice, but she opened her mouth and let the words of praise flow from her. Willow and her family soon joined in, with her father taking a deep bass and her mother singing harmony in alto.
O holy night, the stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior’s birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
’Til he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
When they reached the line about a thrill of hope, Kennedy glanced over at Willow, and in the light gleaming in from the glories outside, their eyes met. An understanding passed between them. The knowledge that they were now sharing Christmas not just as roommates, not just as friends, but as sisters, held together by bonds of fellowship stronger than any spiritual opposition or earthly terror.
The Winters were a little uncertain on the second verse, so Kennedy carried the melody along.
Chains shall he break for the slave is our brother
And in his name all oppression shall cease.
She didn’t know what the future would hold. She didn’t know what to expect in a week when she flew back to Boston and joined Dominic at his cousin’s party. She didn’t know what would happen in Willow’s spirit or whether or not this new excitement in Kennedy’s soul would withstand another busy semester of school.
All she knew was that right now, there was nowhere on earth she would rather be. Surrounded by a loving family, quirky as they were, and the glories of a majestic Creator who splashed his paints across the sky for everyone to see, Kennedy had never felt so thankful.
She had never felt so alive.
- Writer
