Amy

My daughter was dressed in a bright red and green Christmas dress with a full skirt. She had white tights and shiny black shoes. Adorned in her abundant curly red hair, she had a huge, velvet, green bow. Her faux pink fur jacket I held in my arms with matching hat and mittens. This was the first time she had worn her dress and bow since we had tried them on last week.

“Aggie” was held tightly in her right arm. Aggie was the only toy that Amy had brought with her when she moved in with Neil and I last month. There had been no suitcase full of clothes, no pictures, no memoirs from her short life of six years. She just had her doll. Aggie was a Raggedy Ann doll that wore a new bright blue pinafore that replaced the old torn one that had originally covered the doll. Aggie’s body was stained and patched. (I had patched the cigarette burns one night while Amy slept, tears in my eyes as I wished I could so easily erase the scars on the child.) Her yarn hair was worn and frayed. Her face was missing eyes, eyes that Amy refused to let me replace when I offered shortly after she arrived.

Amy’s left hand was clenched in mine. Her large brown eyes were drinking in the brightly lit colors and decorations of Santa’s booth. The brown orbs rested on Santa briefly before they met mine. I smiled at Amy and gripped my hand around hers briefly to console her. Her eyes dropped to Aggie which she held tighter still to her wee body.

Neil and I felt blessed this Christmas. We had waited over 15 years to share our love with a child.

Communication was limited with Amy, she barely spoke and never laughed since the day I had met her. Yet, I had noticed her delay in gait as we passed the Santa booth a week ago. When I knelt by her and asked her if she wanted to visit Santa she had fervently shook her head no several times. A few days later, I noticed the lagging in her steps, the wide open mouth, and eyes upon the merry elf. I scooped her into my arms holding her close to my chest and looked at her deep brown eyes. “Amy, do you want to visit Santa?” I whispered at the angel. She tossed her head back and forth again but continued to stare at the man in the throne as we passed.

I started reading more and more about Santa Claus to Amy. While sitting in Neil’s lap and me to her side, we watched Santa liven the television screen each evening. Aggie heard the stories and watched the shows with us, sitting on Amy’s lap.

I had never seen Amy touch any of the new toys that Neil and I had bought her.

I looked ahead at the other mothers in line with their children. The kids were laughing and smiling. Pointing at the lights and candy canes. Petting the reindeer or feeding them the grain in the food dispenser. They all seemed so happy, all but my Amy. She did not notice the other children, her attention was focused on the bearded man atop his throne.

With a slow, deliberate move, I pulled the frail child into my arms. She observed me silently with large brown eyes. I smiled reassuringly at her and hugged her. The smell of shampoo was strong in her curly auburn hair. She lay her wee head on my shoulder and I started to hum a Christmas carol and rock from side to side.

Our turn was next. A female elf came up to me to ask what pictures I would like. I chose the most expensive batch so I would have many pictures to send out. Amy pulled herself away from my shoulder to look at Santa. A deep breath escaped her.

“Ho ho ho,” the merry elf exclaimed as he waved in Amy.

I placed her on the floor and straightened her dress carefully, delivering a kiss to her forehead. She clenched my hand tightly as we approached the store Santa. Her eyes widened even more. Anticipating her running, I scanned the area for a place I could quickly escape with her in my arms.

Reluctantly, she released my hand and walked up to the fat man in the chair. I watched him pluck her from the floor and place her effortlessly in his lap.

“Hello, lil girl, what would you like for Christmas?” he greeted.

The wide-eyed stare of wonder he received was greeted with a flash of light as the female elf snapped a shot of my precious daughter and her visit to Santa.

I wasn’t aware I was holding my breath until my lungs screamed for air. Would she talk to Santa? Amy looked at me briefly with those huge brown eyes before she leaned toward the store Santa. She gestured toward her doll and showed it. I watched the man nod his head and look at me.

“What could she be asking for,” I thought to myself. The noise of the busy mall answered me.

Perhaps she was asking for a bike. Or, maybe she wanted a doll cradle for Aggie. Maybe she wanted a new doll. Sudden realization that my daughter may be asking for a new family sprang into my heart. Maybe she was not happy with Neil and I. Biting my lip and forcing a smile, I blinked rapidly to prevent the threatening tears from releasing.

Santa Claus patted Amy on the back and helped her down. Amy immediately came to my hand and grabbed it. The bearded man called to me and I approached with my daughter.

“She wants eyes for her doll to see the kisses and hugs you give her,” Santa told me.

I dropped to my knees and pulled Amy in close. I delivered a kiss to her cheek and then another to Aggie.

Amy smiled.