From the Relief Society Magazine, December 1933 –
If They Need Me
By Josephine Gardner Moench
“I’m so tired of everything. It’s hurry home and get the supper, hurry and clean the house, hurry and get my lessons.” Lila’s childish face was the picture of weariness and despair as she sat down to the table and picked up her books.
“If Dad would only come home he could cook dinner and you wouldn’t have to do that,” said her older brother, Dick, a boy of fourteen. He was grieved at the despair in her voice.
“And Daddie can cook as good things as Mother,” said eight-year-old Alice.
“I’ll say he can,” agreed Dick. “Wasn’t it fun that time Mother had the measles and we all had to be quarantined and Dad did the cooking.”
Lila’s tired eyes brightened as she added: “And he never quit teasing Mother about growing little again and getting the measles, and he made jokes about everything, and we had the most fun.”
“If he would only come home I’m sure Mother wouldn’t cry every night when she thinks we are asleep,” Dick said, “But he won’t come. I wrote and asked Uncle Cal why he doesn’t come home if he can’t find work out there. I got his answer today. I know it will make Mother cry so I’m not going to tell her. Uncle Cal said that Dad vowed he wouldn’t come home and be the star boarder while Mother has to teach school and earn the living.”
“How can we have Christmas without him? Who’ll give us our Christmas money?” asked Alice quickly.
“I don’t know, it takes every penny Mother earns to make the payments on the house and buy our food and clothing,” answered Lila. “But I’ve been thinking we could have a Christmas without money.”
“How can we buy presents without money?”
“I know some presents I would rather have than money presents. If you would hurry and get the dishes done – and not dawdle, and Dick would remember the fire always, and you would both put your things where they belong, it would be much better than a money present.
“I know what I can do,” said Dick. “I can make you a book and fill it with merit marks like the merit badges we have in scouting.”
“And I can make one and fill it with silver stars like we do in the Blue Bird class.”
“I’ll make one too, only we will all make them for Mother. Let’s begin tonight and have everything done so she won’t have to remind us of a thing. And I will write a letter to Dad and tell him to bring himself home for his present to us. I’ll write it now and Dick can post it before Mother gets home.”
When Norma Allerton came home from an exhausting day, Lila hurried to warm her dinner and Dick took her coat and hat and hung them up as her husband might have done. Alice took off her boots and put them away as she told of their plans for a Christmas without money.
“Make a book for me too,” Mrs. Allerton said, “and paste in it a star for every time I remember to do the things for you children that I have been neglecting so lately.”
That night, for the first time since her school began, Mrs. Allerton spent a full night in refreshing sleep. Who knows but that it was the unseen influence of the children’s letter speeding on its way to the husband she loved so much, whom she seemed to have lost. The man so bowed and helpless who had said good-bye the day her school began was certainly not her Hal of a year ago. The year of searching for employment had taken heavy toll of his buoyancy and youth. When the savings were gone and it became evident that she would have to go back to teaching, he had gone away to a distant city, to a brother who had repeatedly written that it was useless for him to come there to seek work.
‘”The City of N–– was brimming over with the Christmas spirit in spite of the grave situation of unemployment. Never had it seemed more beautiful. Cal Allerton’s perplexity was all the more poignant because of it. Heretofore Christmas had never disturbed his bachelor routine to any great extent. He had given generously to charity, but that meant only writing a check and denying himself for a short time some of his accustomed comforts. But Christmas this year presented a problem with which he was in no way able to cope. His brother, Hal, who had never once in all his married life spent Christmas away from his wife and children now stoutly refused to go home. What was Cal to do?
In the midst of his perplexity he reached home to find Hal,, erect and smiling, hurriedly packing his suitcase.
“I am going home Cal. Read this letter — isn’t she the clever kid — did you get what she said about my cooking when her mother had the measles — do you see that tear? Imagine the poor, tired kid hurrying home from school to cook dinner for the family. I’ll accept the price of a ticket home Cal, but no more. Do you see what she said about a Christmas without money ? What’s money if they need me? Get me to the station, will you? I mustn’t miss that train.”
* * *
“Say, Lila, what’s Dad’s big rush every morning to get the work all done before we start to school?” Dick asked one morning as they left a clean and orderly house. “He laughs when I ask him and says he likes to go early for the groceries so he can walk part way with Mother. He doesn’t need to get all the work done before he goes. I should think he would like to have something left to do while we are all gone.”
“Maybe he takes all day cooking dinner — he gets such good ones,” Lila answered.
“We’ll have our books chuck full of merit badges and stars with Dad helping us all the time.”
When the children reached home on the afternoon before Christmas the house was decorated with Holly wreaths, and a beautiful Christmas tree stood in the accustomed place.
“Some one broke the rule and spent some money,” Lila exclaimed, her eyes lighting up at the sight.
“A present from the grocer,” Mr. Allerton answered. He didn’t add that he had spent several hours the week before helping to unload the shipment of trees and holly in return for the grocer’s “present.”
After dinner the children brought out the Christmas decorations which they kept from year to year and Mrs. Allerton put on a kitchen apron for the first time since her husband’s return and went into the kitchen to make some of their favorite candy.
Hal went out, saying he had found a little work down town and would be late getting home. About midnight he drove up to the house in a truck and went in quietly to see if they were all sleeping. Finding the house quiet, he returned to the truck and carried in, piece by piece, the four articles of furniture on which he had been so faithfully working in order to finish them in time for Christmas.
There was a desk for Norma, a cedar chest for Lila, a typewriting table for Dick, and a doll bed for Alice. They had given him so much happiness that there seemed something human about them as they stood beside the tree. The drudgery of unloading lumber and cement and cleaning and straightening the shop to pay for the materials was forgotten.
The last weight had been lifted from his shoulders with the promise of the shop foreman.
“We’ll make a place for you, Hal, after the holidays.”
Hal looked up at the tree and a blue bird which seemed to be flying toward him from the white background of a Christmas card drew his attention. He took it down and read : “To Hal from Norma.
“A symbol of the happiness brought back by my boyish Hal, ‘Who once was dead and is alive again.'”