A Miracle At Christmastime - 1. How It Began

Christopher Klinger felt he was different since he was quite young. How different he was would become evident shortly after his sixteenth birthday.

Chris lived in a small village of three hundred and four persons. He had dreamt of Christmas for weeks before the day finally arrived. Christmas was special to him for a second reason, it was his birthday as well. Two of his friends had their own horse. Another handful had mules. His family was poor, much like most of Saint John’s Parish. Those families with a mule were one step up from his own. As the number of mules went up, those families were considered slightly richer. The richest had one or more horses. One family had a pair of oxen. They were the Mayor and his family. Unofficially, anyway. There was no formal government to speak of. The village was ruled based on wealth and comradery. Dreaming of riches wasn’t useful.

The Klingers were among the handful of the poorest. They had one of the smallest farms, among the fewest chickens, pigs, sheep, and cows. Chris’ Christmas dreams were of simple things; a couple goats, a cart, and a mule to pull it.

Christmas morning, 1889 arrived like any other winter’s day in Saint John’s Parish. It was cold, but not bitterly so. Freezing temperatures were rare, but thirty-eight degrees, which was slightly colder than normal, was still quite frigid. Chris climbed out of his bed, changed out of his nightshirt and long-johns into his overalls, put on his winter coat, and headed out to the barn to milk the two cows, gather the eggs, and feed the chickens. His father would be seeing to the pigs and sheep.

Opening the barn door, he was met with a surprise. In the stall next to the cows stood a mule. He looked around to see if there was someone else in the barn. The barn door was secured from the outside, so anyone else being inside should not have been possible. He found nobody. He completed his chores in the barn and headed out to the chicken coop. The sheep were in a pen adjacent to the chickens, which is where his father Nicholas was presently, tending to them.

“Father. Do you know where the mule came from? Is it a Christmas present?”

“Mule? What mule?”

“There is one in the stall next to the cows.”

“Are you daft boy? We have no mule.”

“Honest, father. There is one there.”

“Perhaps the Jonas’ mule wandered over during the night.”

“Into a closed barn, and secured himself in a stall?”

“Let us go take a look.”

In the barn, Nicholas took a look at the mule. “That sure isn’t the Jonas’ mule, and I ain’t never seen one in the village with that white mark on its chest. I’m gonna have to ask around to see if anyone knows where it came from.”

“If we can keep him, I will name him Jesse.”

Chris joined his father for the rest of the chores. They were surprised to find two goats in the sheep pen. Further inspection of the farm uncovered a cart with all the accessories necessary for the mule to pull it.

“I don’t reckon I can figure out where all these new things came from. You didn’t steal them, did you boy?”

“No father. But…”

“But what? Out with it boy!”

“I have been dreaming about getting those things for Christmas.”

“And Santa Claus just brung ‘em to you, huh?”

“No. Of course not. But it is still very strange.”

“Well, you go ahead and dream about somehow getting extra feed for the new critters while I try to find out where they came from.”

“I…”

“I wasn’t serious, boy. Get inside and help your ma fix breakfast.”

“What are the new animals going to eat today?”

“They’ll be fine with just hay for today. Tomorrow, I’ll have to try to trade Mr. Evans some eggs and milk for some squash, and maybe carrots for the goats. Now get on inside.”

“Yes, sir.”

That night, Chris went to bed with thoughts of hay, squash, and carrots on his mind.

The next morning

“Christopher!”

Chris stumbled out of bed. He crossed the small room where he slept. Calling it a bedroom would be generous. It was little more than a closet with a single bed and a small cabinet with his clothing.

“Yes, father?”

“Tell me again you haven’t been stealing.”

“I have not. Honest.”

“Then explain why after mentioning hay, squash and carrots to you yesterday, there are two bales of hay and a crate each of squash and carrots in the barn.”

“I cannot.”

“I’m going to Matt Evans’s store. You start all the chores. If I find out he’s missing anything, I’ll be back to tan your hide.”

“But I did not steal anything.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Nicholas left and Chris turned to his mother, “Ma, I really did not steal anything.”

“I believe you. But this is two days in a row where things have appeared out of nowhere.”

“I know. It is strange. I told father yesterday that I dreamt about the mule, goats and a cart the night before.”

“Did you dream about the animal feed too?”

“Well, I did think about them a lot before I fell asleep.”

“That is strange.”

Chris finished the morning chores and waited for his father to return. He hoped nobody else had stolen the items that appeared at the farm. An hour later, his father came walking up the road, shaking his head side to side. Chris was more nervous than ever. He sat on his bed, awaiting his fate. He overheard his father talking to his mother.

“What did you find out Nicholas?”

“It’s the darnedest thing, Carol. Matt has extra crates of squash, and carrots too.”

“What about the hay?”

“He’s sure he had six fewer bales yesterday.”

“And he doesn’t know where they came from?”

“He hasn’t a clue. He hasn’t heard of anyone missing a mule, a wagon, or two goats, either.”

“You don’t think…”

“What? That Christopher conjured them out of thin air in his sleep?”

“What else could it be?”

“Not that. You’re talking magic. Sorry, I can’t buy that.”

“What do we do?”

“We keep this to ourselves until we can figure this out.”

“What if people find out anyway?”

“If we don’t say anything…”

“They’ll see the mule and cart.”

“Not if I don’t use them.”

Later that day, Carol was drawing water from the well pump. It began slowing down, “Oh, dear.”

“What is wrong, ma?”

“It would seem well is running dry.”

“Oh, no. Father is not going to be happy about digging a new one, especially in this weather.”

“Don’t you worry about that, we’ll just have to ask the neighbors for help. I have enough water for today.”

But Chris did worry about that. The next morning there was a new well pump twenty feet from the old one.

“What in tarnation?” Nicholas was loud enough to be heard inside.

Carol came to the door, “What is it Nicholas?”

Nicholas stepped inside, “We have a new well. I went to gather water for the animals and the pump was practically dry. I shook my head in frustration and saw another one.”

“You’re not going to like hearing this.”

“What?”

“The well was running slow yesterday. Christopher asked me what was wrong.”

“And today we have a new one. Well, I know he didn’t dig it overnight.”

“It can’t be a coincidence, Nicholas.”

“No, it can’t. Christopher!”

Chris came into the kitchen, “Yes, father?”

“Did you dream of a new well last night?”

“No, but like I told ma yesterday about the hay and vegetables, I thought a lot about it before I fell asleep.”

“You need to stop thinking about what we need before bedtime. I don’t mind having the extra things, but if the neighbors find out and I can’t explain it. Well, I don’t know what they’ll do to us.”

“I’ll try. But what if I think of things for the neighbors too?”

“Like what?”

“I do not know. Maybe you can find out something they all need. Then I will think of those things.”

Over the next week, Nicholas did start subtly asking the neighbors what they needed. A week into the new year, things started appearing on the neighboring farms.

Throughout the next year, Nicholas subtly determined what every single one of the families in St. John’s Parish could use. He and Christopher had decided they would wait until Christmas to surprise the village.

Next Up - “The Village, The State, The World”