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The Gift

John Duncklee

    Everyone at Housatonic High School took it for granted that Joe and Margie would marry soon after graduation, or at least once they had graduated from college. Joe had some misgivings about college because he was having plenty of trouble getting through high school algebra. After one of their discussions about their future, Joe had expressed his feelings about algebra to Margie. “I am convinced that I am mathematically challenged,” he said.
    The pressure on him from his parents and the teachers at school gave him so much worry that during baseball season his pitching was not as good as the previous year. Toward the end of his senior year he skipped school at times and Margie began to worry about whether or not Joe would graduate with their class. When Joe began forgetting about picking her up for their Saturday dates, she became concerned enough to telephone his mother to see if she might learn what was bothering Joe. Joe’s mother offered little help because she was also perplexed by her son’s behavior.
    It had been their custom, since the summer before their sophomore year when they had fallen in love, to walk to and from school with each other. They had become a common sight walking along, hand in hand every morning and afternoon. During Springtime they would appear later because of Joe’s baseball practice.
    Margie was known as a good student. She didn’t fall into the classification of “brain”, but she made consistently good grades except in history. There was something about history that sent her into confusion every time she tried to understand who was a hero and who was a villain and why. Historic dates went through her mind like water over a dam. She had no memory for any historic dates except for those that were drummed into every person in the country. She would have to think a moment before saying that the War of 1812 was in 1812. However, her memory for mathematical formulae never failed to amaze her teachers. This trait gave her the confidence to offer to tutor Joe in algebra. This generous act was also something that she didn’t realize came between them and would often cause Joe to avoid the tutoring sessions.
    At the beginning of one session that she held in her parents’ living room she noticed that Joe had not brought his algebra text, but instead had a copy of Will James’s book, LONE COWBOY. “How do you expect to learn algebra from that book?” She asked in a tone that made Joe cringe.
    “I am not reading it to learn algebra,” Joe said. “I am learning all I can about being a cowboy. Will James knows all that because he is a cowboy.”
    “Did Will James graduate from high school?” Margie asked.
    “I don’t know,” Joe said. “And, for that matter, I really don’t care. He sure didn’t learn about cows and horses looking at a blackboard full of numbers that didn’t make sense to him.”
    Margie did her best with the session, but she had no doubt that Joe was not listening to what she was saying. Furthermore, she thought, that if he was listening he was not concentrating enough to understand what she was trying to explain. What worried her more than anything was that final examinations were scheduled to begin in two weeks. She couldn’t see how Joe could learn enough to pass algebra in that short a time.
    Two days later, Margie could not understand why Joe avoided her. She had planned some last minute memory clues to remind him how to calculate some basic algebraic problems, but he was nowhere to be found. She had looked everywhere and made several inquiries of his mother as to his whereabouts. Joe had disappeared.
    Joe was too busy to see anyone. He had escaped to the small guesthouse of his cousin Allison, a single woman who worked as a travel agent in a downtown office. Joe knew she would not tell anybody where he was because she and Joe’s mother, Allison’s sister, had never gotten along well. Joe’s mother had once explained the situation as “sibling rivalry”, but Joe had no idea what that meant because he had neither brothers nor sisters.
    Joe was not just in hiding. He was making the best set of algebra crib notes he could. He had thought about his plan all semester because he knew that without these notes, well hidden from the teacher’s eyes, he would never pass algebra. Therefore he would not graduate with his class, a situation that would bring sneers of laughter from his peers. He hated being singled out for any sort of transgression, and failure to graduate on time would have brought on complete disgrace in his young mind.
    Joe finished his project the day before the last game of the season against his high school’s archrival. He was scheduled to be the starting pitcher. He showed up in the locker room in plenty of time to change into his game uniform and sauntered out onto the field to warm up his arm. The coach saw him and yelled for him to come over to the bench.
    “Where have you been all week, Joe?”
    “Sorry about that Coach, but I have been too busy to practice.”
    “I don’t know about you starting today,” the coach said.
    “That’s up to you, Coach, but I can tell you that I know my pitching has been slipping lately, and I know why. I have had a problem to solve and now I have solved it. So I think you can count on me having my best game today if you let me start.”
    “That’s interesting, Joe,” the coach said. “I was wondering what was bothering you. I’m glad you got through whatever it was. You can start today and I hope you strike out every batter that you face.”
    “Thanks, Coach. I will do the best I can. Who knows, I may never be on the mound again.”
    “Why do you say that, Joe?”
    “I have decided to become a cowboy.”
    The coach’s eyes widened in a look of disbelief. He removed his ball cap and scratched the top of his head. Joe went to the mound to wait for his catcher to don his protective equipment. When the catcher took his position behind the plate, Joe began throwing slowly. He felt good in his mind and his arm warmed up easily. In a few minutes he threw several curve balls and then motioned to the catcher that he was ready. They both walked to the bench and sat down to wait for the game to begin. The visiting team would be at bat first. Joe rotated his shoulders a few times as he waited. He watched the umpires take their positions and heard the one behind the plate yell, “Play Ball!”
    Joe’s team trotted out onto the field and took their positions. Joe reached down, grabbed the rosin bag, and fingered it for a moment as he waited for the catcher to squat down behind the skinny looking batter.
    The catcher signed a fastball. Joe wound up and pitched low and inside. The skinny looking batter seemed like he had never seen the ball coming. “Strike one!” the behind-the-plate umpire said.
    Two more pitches and Joe faced the second batter with one out. That first half inning ended with two strikeouts and one popped fly out to the shortstop. The second half saw Joe’s team bat in four runs and the visiting team had committed two errors. Joe’s coach called the team into a huddle before they went out to start the second inning. “All right, I want you to play like we are losing and cannot afford an error. And, Joe, you are throwing your old game. Keep it up and we’ll pocket a win. Go for it, Cowboy!”
    Joe was surprised at the coach’s last statement. As he trotted out to the mound he glanced back and saw Margie in the grandstand next to his parents. He wondered if she was angry with him for not showing up for her tutoring sessions. Upon reaching the mound he said to himself that if she was angry it couldn’t be helped. He had done what he had to do, and he was back in the old groove pitching a good game.
    Joe could feel the exuberance and tension of the crowd as he continued striking out batters and the score remained in the home team’s favor by two runs. At the beginning of the eighth inning the coach called Joe over. “How’s that arm holding up, Cowboy?” he asked.
    “No problem, Coach. I could probably go another nine.”
    “I sure hope that won’t be necessary,” the coach said, and patted him on his back before Joe took over the mound again.
    The game ended with a three run lead for Joe’s team, and Joe had pitched a one hitter, his best game ever. Margie and his parents came swarming onto the field with the rest of the fans to congratulate their team on the victory. Margie hugged Joe. He bent down and kissed her on her forehead. He turned to his father who was beaming at his son’s accomplishment. “Nice game, Son,” his father said. “I knew you could do it.”
    Three days later, proudly wearing his baseball cap, Joe entered the classroom where the algebra final examination was being given. He took a desk next to the wall on the right side of the room. Removing his baseball cap, he carefully placed it upside down on his lap. He kept his left arm over the opening in the cap, but looked down for a moment to see if he could read the notes that he had arranged inside the crown. He breathed a sign of relief that nobody could hear except himself. The teacher walked up and down the aisles handing out the examination and “Blue Books” for the students to use. All knew that the teacher had made sure nothing had been written in the “Blue Books” beforehand.
    When he had finished handing out the examination sheets and “Blue Books”, the teacher stood at the front of the room. “Class, you will have two hours to complete this examination. Should you finish before the time is up I suggest that you go over your answers to make sure you have not left any questions out. Then you may hand in your examinations here on the front desk.” The teacher smiled. “Good luck and I wish you well. Results will be posted on my office door the day after tomorrow. You may start the examination now.”
    The first thing Joe did was read over the questions on the examination sheet. He was surprised to recognize that he could answer a good number without referring to his notes. He contemplated using his notes, but his thoughts jumped back to the one-hitter he had pitched. He had pitched an honest game and won, so he thought that he had a good chance to win the game of algebra by writing an honest examination. He realized that by making such a complete set of crib notes he had learned more algebra than he had all year in class. He took his cap and tucked it away under his right leg. He began to write down numbers. As he worked away he smiled and came close to shivering with the joy he felt knowing that he had learned that horrible subject and could write it down correctly. He knew his answers were correct. When he had finished he looked up and saw that nobody had turned in their examinations, so he continued sitting in his chair making believe that he was still writing down answers to the questions. He remained there until he saw that three students had gone to the front of the room and left their papers on the teacher’s desk.
    When another student started for the front of the room, Joe grabbed and pinched his cap so that the notes would stay in the crown. He took his examination in his other hand and walked behind the other student. He placed his examination with the others and left the classroom. Once outside the school he looked around to see if there was anyone nearby. He took his cap, opened it carefully and put it on his head. He sighed again, thankful that he had not been discovered with his crib notes.
    Two days later Joe went to the algebra teacher’s office door where he saw that he had gotten a “C” in algebra. He didn’t swell with pride, but he breathed a long sigh of relief because he knew that he would graduate in two more days. That evening he interrupted his parents as they listened to their favorite news program on the radio in the living room.
    “I need to talk to you,” Joe said. “Please turn off the radio.”
    His father scowled, reached out and turned the sound volume down. He left the radio on. “What is so important that I cannot listen to my news?” he asked.
    “I want to tell you that after graduation, I am going to the West to become a cowboy,” Joe said.
    His father stood up and looked at Joe directly. “What in the world gave you that ridiculous idea?”
    “It is not a ridiculous idea, Dad. I am finished with school and I want to make my way in the world just like you have been telling me for a long time.”
    “I thought you were going to Dartmouth as we had talked about.”
    “I haven’t applied to Dartmouth, Dad. In fact, I haven’t applied to any college. I just want to be a cowboy. I don’t want to go to school anymore. I am totally tired of school.”
    “How about your pitching?” his father asked.
    “I had a great time pitching, but it is time to do something else. I want to be a cowboy.”
    “Well, all I have to say is I don’t know how you are planning to go West where you can become a cowboy. Do you realize that cowboys don’t make much money?”
    “I know a little about that, Dad. But, a cowboy doesn’t need much money when he is out in the mountains taking care of the cattle.”
    “Then I have one more question before I turn the news back on. How are you planning to get out West?”
    “I’ll figure out a way somehow,” Joe said and left the room as his father turned up the volume on the radio again.
    Joe walked over to his Aunt Allison’s house and found her in the kitchen washing her supper dishes. “Hi, Joe,” she said. “What brings you to see your mother’s villainous sister?” Allison laughed. Joe smiled since he knew all about the two sisters not getting along with each other.
    “I need to ask you to do me a favor,” Joe said.
    “I will do any favor that is within my power, Joe.” She said.
    “You are a travel agent and I need to get to Wyoming to become a cowboy. I need you to tell me how I can get there.”
    “Where do you want to go in Wyoming? It’s a big chunk of country.”
    “Sheridan, I think. I looked on a map and it is near Montana. If I can’t get a cowboy job near Sheridan I can always try Montana.”
    “I really don’t understand your reasoning there, but I will get the information for you in the morning. Can you come by my office before noon?”
    “I’ll be there, Aunt Allison. Thanks.”
    Joe returned home, and, without disturbing his parents with their ears glued to the radio, went up stairs to his room. He picked up the latest book by Will James that he had checked out of the library, and began reading where he had left his bookmark. Within moments the book had absorbed his interest. Joe read until he could barely keep his eyes open. He finished the book the following morning before going to Aunt Allison’s office. After finishing the Will James story, he was more determined than ever to become a cowboy in Wyoming.
    Allison stood up from her desk to welcome her nephew, and then sat back down in her chair. “I have all the information available on your proposed trip to Sheridan. How much money do you have?”
    “I have been saving as much as I can,” Joe said. “I have close to fifty dollars.”
    “That will get you half way by train and a little further if you buy a bus ticket,” Allison said.
    “I guess that means a bus ticket and then I will get out on the highway and hitch-hike.”
    “Have you talked to your parents about this adventure?”
    “I talked to them but they were more interested in listening to the evening news.”
    “What did my idiot sister have to say?”
    “As usual, my father did all the talking,” Joe said, and shrugged.
    “That is certainly nothing new. She has been his silent slave since she married him.”
    “There isn’t much I can do about that,” Joe said.
    “You’re right, but there is something I can do,” Allison said, and smiled a look of conniving. “I will lend you the money for a rail ticket. I get an agency discount.”
    “That is very nice of you, Aunt Allison. I can pay you back once I get a job as a cowboy.”
    “From what I have heard about cowboys, they don’t make much money so it will take you quite a while to repay the loan. But, that is fine with me because I think you are doing the right thing by getting away from those parents of yours.”
    “It isn’t just getting away from my parents, Aunt Allison. I just want to do what I want to do instead of going to Dartmouth and go to work in the city with my father. That is not my idea of living.”
    “I admire you for your courage.”
    “I suppose you might say that I am stubborn.”
    “I think that might be true, but I am stubborn, too. I will have your ticket ready this afternoon. Oh, I forgot one important thing. When are you wanting to leave?”
    “The day after graduation, which will be in three days,” Joe said.
    “Your ticket will be ready for you to pick up this afternoon. I kind of wish I was going with you, Joe. I think this is quite exciting.”
    Joe returned home and started reading another book that he had checked out of the library. It was a novel about life in early day Wyoming.

    Before the graduation ceremony Joe was restless. He wanted more than anything for all of it to end so he could get to New York City and Grand Central Station to leave for Wyoming. He was also apprehensive about seeing Margie. He had not told her about his plans because he didn’t want to listen to her cry and carry on about their future together. He had decided that before he could ever think about a future with anyone he would have to become what he wanted to be, a cowboy.
    He had put on his cap and gown and was in the back of the auditorium with some of the baseball team members as they, too, waited to become graduates of Housatonic High School. As he chatted with his friends he saw his parents arrive and then in came Margie in her cap and gown. She spotted him immediately. Joe wanted to shrink into the hardwood floor, but she came over to where he stood and stopped by his side.
    “Hi, Joe,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
    “Just what you are doing,” he said. “I am waiting to graduate and get this all over with.”
    “I didn’t know you were graduating,” she said. “What about algebra? You ran away from our tutoring sessions.”
    “I got a ‘C’.”
    “That is amazing,” she said. “How did you manage to do that?”
    “You must have taught me more than you thought you did. I got an ‘A’ in English. Mister Donovan told me I should be a writer.”
    “Why don’t you study creative writing in college?”
    “I’m going to be a cowboy, Margie. I’m not going to college.”
    One of the teachers intruded into the group and told them to line up in the hall outside the auditorium in alphabetical order. The student went out as directed and were soon all standing in the proper line. Then the same teacher ordered them to walk into the auditorium and sit in the front rows, staying in alphabetical order.
    The ceremony began with the principal giving a welcoming address to graduates, students, parents and friends. Joe was glad that it was not a long speech, but the succeeding speeches tended to be not only longer, but boring as well. The valedictory speech was short and to the point that we are all going out into the world to make our mark and we shall always be thankful to our faithful teachers at this fine high school. Joe felt relieved when the line of graduating seniors began filing on stage to receive their diplomas. He took his rolled up, ribbon-tied diploma, shook the principal’s hand quickly and went back to his seat. He was happy when the principal finished with the presentation and allowed all the graduates to file out of the auditorium first.
    In spite of his strong desire to flee and go home to get ready for his trip, Joe waited for the congratulations that all the adults seemed to think were necessary. Margie came up and smiled up at him.
    “How does it feel to be a graduate?” she asked.
    “I don’t feel any different than I did before,” Joe said.
    “Shall we go out and celebrate?” she asked.
    “Margie, I have some things to take care of,” he said. “I don’t really feel like there is anything to celebrate.”
    “Good heavens, you just graduated from high school and that doesn’t happen every day.”
    “Thank goodness for that,” Joe said. “I’ll get in touch.”
    “Joe, you are acting very strange. Is everything all right at home?”
    “Everything is the same at home. That will never change. I’ll get in touch, Margie.”
    Joe turned and walked out of the school auditorium, took off the cap and gown and left it with the others on a table in the hall. He went home and up to his room as quickly as he could. He wanted to finish the novel and take it back to the library. He didn’t want to leave any more loose ends than necessary.
    The following morning he slept late, and waited before going downstairs to eat breakfast until he was sure that his father had left for his daily commute to the city. He left his packed suitcase in his room.
    After a breakfast of bacon and what his mother called a “Graduation Omelet”, he asked her to wait for him in the living room. He went to his room, grabbed his suitcase and came downstairs where he sat down in the chair from which his father always listened to the evening news.
    “What are you doing with that suitcase, Joey?”
    He hated hearing his mother call him “Joey”.
    “Mom, I am leaving for Wyoming today to become a cowboy. Haven’t you been listening?”
    “I have heard this talk, but I didn’t think you meant it.”
    “I wonder why you and Dad don’t believe me when I tell you something,” he said.
    “Now, Joey, that’s not it at all,” she said, wrinkling her brow.
    “I guess that doesn’t matter. But, you need to believe me right now. I am leaving for the city and will leave for Sheridan, Wyoming around noon. I will write to you once I get a job as a cowboy.”
    “For heaven’s sake, I believe you mean what you are saying.”
    “Finally,” he said almost under his breath. “Please tell Dad that I am sorry that I am not going to Dartmouth as he wants me to, but that life is not for me. And remember that I love you, Mom.”
    Joe rose from the chair, picked up the suitcase and stood there momentarily, waiting for his mother to get up from her chair so he could give her a good-bye hug.
    “What about Margie?” she asked. “Your father and I thought you two were planning to get married.”
    “Margie will be fine. I have to go now, Mom. Give me a hug.”
    The mother and son embraced as tears began running down his mother’s face. She released him and took her handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped at her eyes. “You take care, Joey, and don’t forget to write. Send us a picture when you become a cowboy.”
    As he walked down the long hill to the railroad station that served the commuter trains into the city he looked around at all the familiar houses. He wondered if he would miss his boyhood hometown. He hoped that Margie would get over his leaving, and he hoped that someday he would see her again. He stopped at the library and returned the novel.
    The train arrived on time, and Joe stepped aboard. He took a seat next to a window because most of the businessmen had already finished their morning commutes and the train was not full of passengers. He was glad that he had waited long enough to eat a good breakfast so that he wouldn’t have to spend any of his meager fifty dollars on a meal before the train heading west left Grand Central Station.
    The train pulled into the lower level of the huge station. Joe got off and walked up to the upper level. He strolled by the long line of entrances reading the names of the trains’ destinations and their scheduled departures. Finding his train’s entrance, he went to a waiting room and sat down. He had a two-hour wait, but he was glad that he had gotten through his good-byes with his mother before she began to cry a lot. He wondered what Margie would do once she knew he really had gone west to be a cowboy as he had said so many times.
    He got up from the bench to go out into the large station room to check on the time. Suddenly, his Aunt Allison walked up to him. “I see you made it on time,” she said.
    “What are you doing here, Aunt Allison?”
    “I had business in the city so I thought I would drop by here to see you off. Besides, I have something for you.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    She reached into her purse, took out an envelope and handed it to him. Joe opened it and looked inside. “Good heavens, Aunt Allison why are you giving me this?”
    “It’s only a hundred dollars, Joe. You are going to need some money to live on until you find a cowboy job.”
    He put the envelope into his pocket and put his arms around her. “Golly, Aunt Allison, you are really something,” he said. “My parents didn’t offer anything but frowns.”
    “That’s the way some parents are. I never married and never had any children, but I have a dear nephew who I think the world of.”
    Joe hugged her tightly, then leaned down to kiss his aunt on her cheek.
    They waited for the departure time when the conductor stood at the entrance checking tickets. Joe kissed his aunt once more and said good-bye. As he walked down the ramp to board his train he had a warm feeling for his Aunt Allison that he had never felt before. He was happy that she had come to see him off and was still surprised at her generosity. He scowled as he sat in his seat, suddenly wondering how two sisters could be so different.

***

    Joe found his cowboy job within a week after his arrival in Sheridan. He also discovered that besides taking care of the cattle cowboys in that part of the country also helped put up hay in the summer. Joe didn’t mind doing anything as long as he could wear his cowboy hat and Levis. He worked in northern Wyoming for several years until he met a man from Colorado in the Mint Bar on Main Street in downtown Sheridan. The man had a ranch near Greeley, and offered Joe a job he couldn’t turn down. He packed his gear and became the man’s ranch manager with a herd of a thousand cows.
    All the while Joe could not get Margie out of his mind. He had pangs of guilt and sadness that he had left her without so much as a good-bye. He wondered what life had brought to her doorstep.
    Margie had excelled in mathematics in college and became a Certified Public Accountant on graduation. She worked for a newspaper chain and met the man she married while there. He was a reporter. They moved to Denver where her husband had grown up. All seemed to be going well until he came home one day after being diagnosed with cancer of the stomach. He was gone within six months and Margie remained in Denver at her accounting job with the same newspaper chain she had been with back East. All through the years she wondered what had happened to Joe. She still harbored some of the hurt she had felt after he had left for Wyoming to become a cowboy.

***

    After ten years as a ranch manager, Joe learned that the owner had sold his spread to a land developer. That was the end of that good job for Joe. He didn’t look around for another ranch to manage; his thoughts went back to the time when his high school English teacher had told him that he should be a writer. Joe had always saved most of his paycheck. His financial situation had improved when his parents died and left him a portfolio of sound investments. Joe moved to Denver and found a small house to rent where he could stay and write stories about horses and cattle.
    Every so often his thoughts returned to Margie. One day, after finishing his fourth novel, he let his mind go to the tutoring session with Margie. Then he wondered if Mister Donavan might still be alive. Joe thought it would be nice to send him autographed copies of his novels. He wrote to Aunt Allison to ask her about his former teacher, but she never answered his letter. It finally came back unopened with “Address Unknown” stamped in red ink on the outside of the envelope.
    One evening he went to The Brown Palace Hotel, that everyone for miles round referred to as “The Brown”. He went there on occasion to treat himself to a fancy meal. By this time he had grown a long beard that had turned white and his stomach had expanded as the result of the many hours he spent at his typewriter writing his stories. He liked “The Brown” and had met the manager when he had first moved from Greeley to Denver.
    As usual the manager spotted Joe and came over to his table for a chat. During the conversation the manager proposed to Joe that he become the hotel’s Santa Claus during the pre-Christmas season. “All you have to do is stand at the entrance and say ‘Merry Christmas’ to people entering the hotel.”
    “What about the Santa Claus costume?” Joe asked.
    “We already have one, and I’ll bet it would fit you perfectly,” the manager replied, with a smile
    That is how Joe became the Brown Palace Hotel’s Santa Claus, a job he enjoyed every year at Christmas time. He didn’t mind taking a break from his writing. Every year after Christmas he returned to his typewriter with an entirely new set of characters based on people he had seen as he stood as Santa Claus at “The Brown’s” entrance.
    He had been Santa Claus for eight years when a newspaperman approached him and asked if he would agree to an interview for a human-interest story the man had in mind. Joe agreed and the following morning the newsman arrived at Joe’s house with a tape recorder, accompanied by another man with a camera. For fun, Joe had put on the Santa suit for the occasion. Joe and the newsman sat down for the interview while the cameraman snapped photographs.
    A week later the newspaperman telephoned Joe to tell him about the article being published in the Sunday edition. “Thanks,” Joe said. “I’ll have to make sure I go out and buy one.”
    “You won’t have to do that, Joe,” the man said. “I’ll deliver one to you as soon as the sun rises on Sunday. Will that be convenient?”
    Joe looked forward to seeing the article and wondered what the man had decided to write about him.
    After reading the article, Joe smiled to himself, and put the newspaper on one of his bookshelves. That afternoon he stopped writing on his current novel to get ready for what he called “His Santa Gig”. The weather had turned and a cold snap had arrived. Joe made sure he had his mittens to keep his hands warm while standing outside at the hotel’s entrance. He also slipped on some heavy woolen socks because the Santa Boots had not been made for North Pole temperatures, nor for the feezing cold of Denver either. As with every year on Christmas Eve, Joe looked forward to this last evening as Santa as he stood greeting the people entering the hotel. Very few people stopped to chat with “Santa”, but that didn’t bother Joe because he was generally thinking about some story. The gently falling snow that was accumulating on the sidewalks and street did not distract his thoughts, but he was somewhat surprised when a woman stopped in front of him and said, “Merry Christmas, Joe.”
    Joe looked at her face closely. She seemed familiar. He wrinkled his brow. “I wish I could remember your name,” he said.
    “Maybe you remember when I tried to teach you enough high school algebra to pass your final examination.”
    Joe’s eyes widened as he recognized her. “Margie! For heaven’s sake what are you doing here? How did you find me playing Santa Claus?”
    He reached out and took her into his arms, into which she willingly came, and put her arms around him.
    “This is some kind of miracle,” Joe said.
    “I have read your books, Joe. And, I read the article about you being an award winning writer and being the Brown Palace Santa Claus. I had to come and see you after all the years. I live here in Denver.”
    “Come with me, Margie. Let’s go across the street and have some supper and talk. I’ll tell the manager I have to call it a day.”
    “That sounds perfect to me,” she said.
    Joe went into the hotel, apologized to the manager, changed into his regular clothes and returned to the sidewalk where Margie waited with tears running down her cheeks.
    “Are you all right, Margie?” Joe asked when he saw the tears.
    “Oh yes, Joe. I am just fine. I am just so very happy to see you I cannot hold back the tears.”
    Tears filled Joe’s eyes, too. He put his arms around her. “Margie, I have felt so guilty all these years for not saying good-bye to you. I am truly sorry.”
    “I must admit I felt hurt for a long time, but I forgave you when I realized that you had to do what you had dreamed of doing.”
    “I have always loved you, Margie.”
    “I know. I have always loved you, too, Joe.”
    “What a wonderful Christmas gift you have given me,” Joe said.
    “It is a wonderful Christmas gift we have given one another,” she said. “What was it you said about supper?”

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