The
two truckers had finished their lunch and pushed their chairs back from the
table. “I just don’t know about all
those people coming across the border,” said one, gathering up his coat and
walking to the register.
“Yeah,”
the other one replied. “We have enough
problems of our own without having to take care of all these other people.” The two men pushed their way through the door
and made their way to their trucks.
Trudy,
the owner of the café, shot a glance at a middle-aged rancher sitting at the
counter. Miguel raised his eyebrows at
her and smiled, shaking his head. She
knew Miguel routinely provided food and shelter to immigrants who passed
through the area, and in fact, many of the townspeople were descendants of
immigrants and gave their support to those in need.
Suddenly,
a young woman burst her way through the door and threw herself onto a stool at the
counter. She buried her face in her
hands and moaned. “I have no idea how
I’m going to pull this off.” She gave a
little shiver from the cold December wind that was blowing across the Texas
high country.
Trudy
poured a hot cup of coffee for her and asked.
“Teena, what’s wrong, honey?”
Teena
dropped her hands and gratefully wrapped them around the cup of coffee. “For some reason,” she explained, “I
volunteered to put together the ‘Las Posadas’ program for this year.”
Trudy
smiled. “I love that story! The holy family going from one house to the
next to find a place to rest, turned away everywhere they went until finally
are given safe haven.”
“It’s
a wonderful tradition,” said Teena, nodding her head in agreement. “But I need to find someone to play the part
of Joseph. José was going to do it, but
he’s come down with COVID.” She slumped
her head to the counter. “What am I
going to do?”
Suddenly,
there was a firm hand pulling her to her feet.
“Christina Marie, come.” The commanding
voice of Graciela shocked Teena, and she tripped over her feet as the wizened
old lady drew her over to the window.
“Over there. Find answers. Go now.”
Graciela handed Teena a gallon jug of water and pointed to a ridge off
in the distance.
Teena
shot a glance over to Trudy who raised her eyebrows and slowly shook her
head. Everyone in this west Texas town
knew that Graciela had a sixth sense about things, and it was not prudent to
ignore her advice. Teena bit her lip and
sighed. “At least I have good shoes on,”
she muttered to herself as she started out the door.
After thirty minutes, Teena made it to the top of the
ridge and happily found a large rock to sit on.
She looked back at the way she had come and took in the view of the small
town below and the surrounding scenery.
She was struck by the beauty and serenity of the place and found herself
bursting into song. The strains of
‘Angels We Have Heard on High’ rolled over the ridge into the next valley, and
Teena smiled as she listened for the echo of the refrain.
But it wasn’t an echo that came back to her.
Someone
else was singing.
= = =
Teena stood rooted to the spot, spellbound by the sound,
until it suddenly came to her that she was not alone in this wilderness. She gathered her wits and scrambled over the
ridge in the hope of finding the source of the singing. What she found was someone sprawled out
farther down the steep hillside. She
hurried down, climbing carefully down the tumble of rocks until she reached a
young man who looked up at her in surprise.
He blinked several times and asked with a parched voice,
“Are you an angel? I heard an angel
singing and I was singing back to her.
Am I dead?”
“You’re
not dead,” Teena reassured him, “but what happened? Are you okay?”
He
rubbed his face with a dirty hand and sighed, “I slipped and fell. Twisted my ankle. Can’t get up.” He looked up at her again for help but then his
eyes grew wide when he noticed the jug that she was carrying. “Is that water?”
“What? Oh, yes,” she replied, flustered. She screwed the cap off. “Here you go,” she said and held the jug out
to him.
“Thank
you,” he said gratefully. “Just a
moment.” He pulled off his backpack and
pulled out some plants, unwrapping a cloth from around their roots. Teena watched dumbfounded as he took the
water, splashed some onto the cloth, and wrapped the plants back up again. “I was afraid they would dry out,” he
explained before taking a long drink from the jug. He noticed her expression and offered an
explanation. “They’re grapevines. I’m hoping to replant them here in Texas and
start a vineyard. I was standing up there,” he gestured up toward the top of
the ridge, “when I slipped and fell down here.
I didn’t think anyone would find me.”
“You’re
lucky I came along. The town’s curandera told me to come up
here and… and…” Teena shook her head slowly
in wonder. “Let’s get you back to town.”
= = =
In the medical clinic, the young man
sat on the examination table and sighed.
“Thank you--” he began, then paused.
“I don’t even know your name…”
She smiled. “Teena.
Teena Ramos.”
He extended his hand. “Denis Michel. Thank you, Teena Ramos, for being my
savior. I will be forever in your debt.”
She bit her lip and glanced shyly at
him, “Well, there IS one favor I’d like to ask.”
“Anything,” he replied.
“How do you feel about singing in
public?”
=
= =
Arrangements
were made for the grapevines to stay in a greenhouse at Teena’s house, and
Denis was put up in the foreman’s shack so that he could stay close to his
plants. The greenhouse and shack had
been unused for a good number of years, but Denis was surprisingly good at
working with his hands. “I was a
handyman at the vineyard where I worked in California,” he explained. “Fixing this place up is easy.”
Teena
looked in amazement at the work he had done.
“You did such a wonderful job. Thank
you for doing all the repairs.”
Denis
gave a short nod of his head, “Thank you for giving me and my plants a home.” He smiled and said, “You know, the celebration
you’re doing, Las Posadas, is very much like what you have done for me.”
She
looked confused and asked, “What do you mean?”
“My
plants and I were wandering across the country, trying to find a place to rest,”
he observed. “You welcomed us and gave
us sanctuary, n'est-ce pas?”
Teena
looked at him thoughtfully. “I suppose
you’re right.” She said with a smile, “Well
then, feliz Navidad, Denis.”
“And
Joyeux Noël to you, Teena.”
= = =
Meanwhile,
in non-descript house outside of town, a weary old rancher was looking forward
to settling down with a good book at the end of the day. Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. When
he answered, there stood a road-weary man, his wide brimmed hat in his
hands. A young woman and child stood
behind him in the dark.
“Por favor, señor. ¿Tienes un lugar donde mi familia y
yo podamos dormir por la noche?” the traveler asked.
Miguel
answered, “Hospedaje os daré con gran alegría; Recibe este rincón, no desde
este humilde hogar, sino desde mi corazón”.
He welcomed the family into his home, and before he went inside, he
looked up into the west Texas night and watched a shooting star fly across the
sky.
Appendix
·
Matthew 7: 7-8, Ask, and you will
receive. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and it will be opened to you. For the one who asks, receives. The one who seeks, finds. The one who knocks, enters.
·
Las Posadas, A Christmas celebration in
mainly Hispanic cultures that depicts the journey of Mary and Joseph before the
birth of Christ as they attempt to find a place to stay.
·
Curandera, Spanish, a person who uses folk
remedies
·
N'est-ce pas?, A French expression, a rhetorical
question that means “isn’t it?”
·
Feliz Navidad, Spanish for Merry Christmas
·
Joyeux Noël, French for Merry Christmas
·
“Por favor, señor. ¿Tienes un lugar donde
mi familia y yo podamos dormir por la noche?” - "Please sir. Do you have a
place where my family and I can sleep at night?”
·
“Hospedaje os daré con gran alegría;
Recibe este rincón, no desde este humilde hogar, sino desde mi corazón.” - “Lodging
I will give you with great joy; Receive this corner, not from this humble home,
but from my heart.” Miguel's response is taken from a script
for Las Posadas.
Author’s Notes
·
Trudy, Miguel, and Graciela are characters
from Summer Dances, a story I wrote back in 2012 and published on my
blog in June 2020.
·
Teena, AKA Christina Marie, got her name
as a Hallmark-esque nod to how that company names many of its characters during
the holiday season, Christina – Christmas, Marie – Mary.
·
Denis is a French name derived from the
Greek god Dionysus, the god of wine.
·
Denis, by all accounts, is a handyman, i.e.
carpenter.
·
Las Posadas, of course, is mirrored by the
work that Miguel does as he gives sanctuary to immigrants.
