By the time this reaches you, dear friend, your life will have changed in so many ways I cannot even begin to imagine. Has it been as fine, as liberating as you first dreamt it might be? I pray all is well with you. And what about America? It too must be a revelation—life so very different from the quiet shady hours beneath our tree, our wall by the blooms of the oleander. A Sister here, who teaches pharmacology with skill, has told me that oleander is a deadly poison when its bitter leaves are distilled, then ingested. I found that rather disheartening, thinking back to such pleasant innocence experienced in its shade.
Write me. We are permitted to receive letters once they have been approved, deemed acceptable by the Mother Superior as nondisruptive to our state of mind and discipline. So write me, please!
The candle splutters and my eyes are strained. It would be more sensible to pray—for then they could rest. Seeing into one’s soul requires a different sight. So, this sinner shall be sensible—but not until she has wished you well, with a heart filled with affection for the time of our youth that has passed—yet never lost.
May the Lord watch over you and yours. You are always in my prayers. Having chosen Marie-Luke, she signs it here for the first time …
A tidal wave of sudden longing surged through Jane that startled her by its ferocity. Until that moment, she had been convinced there was nothing of her past worthy of such remembrance. Carefully, she folded Teresa’s letter, returned it to its envelope, then tucked it down inside her sewing box. Turning off the lamp, she noticed her hand was shaking—and wondered why. When John returned, she told him of the letter and its news but not how it had affected her.
When it was time to get the tree, Hannah reminded Fritz that the one he and Peter dragged home all the way from Polishtown the year before had not only been not worth the trip, but had cost too much for what it wasn’t. For days, heated discussions filled the house, until it was decided that this year, Fritz would go across town to see what the Irish were offering in pine.
“De Catholics—only de Catholics have de good trees—so go to de Irish … who else do you know who is mit de praying and de bead telling all de time, have a Virgin who can have a baby? So, go already, take Stan to help—bring me back a nice tree, mit de pins all on! But don’t spend more dan twenty-five cents at most!”
The tree when first seen did not elicit Hannah’s full approval. Although she did approve of its needles that did not drop when she shook it, she complained that it was much too small, but when Rudy had nailed its wooden stand and placed it next to the parlor table by the window and its height suited that of the menorah next to it perfectly, Hannah beamed, declaring it, after all, just right, blandly ignoring the overly exaggerated sighs of dramatic relief of the men teasing her.
Now, in the evenings, Hannah popped corn, spread it out on the kitchen table for Jane, her darning needle ready to thread it into garlands. Then it was the gingerboys’ turn to be joined so that they too could adorn the small tree as though they were dancing amongst its fluffy corn. Hoarded tin foil from a Hershey chocolate bar was cut into the shape of a six-pronged star, backed with brown paper and paste to stiffen it, then attached with wire to the pinnacle of the tree. When Johann, on seeing it, slightly confused commented on its rather unconventional shape, Hannah was heard to retort, “A star is a star, Mr. Smarty. You know maybe de exact shape dey all are up in de sky?”
As the menorah gained its daily light, the Christmas tree beside it took on its festive finery. Rudy and Stan built an enclosure from dried twigs and glue, decorated it with bits of straw they had found and, with Zoltan standing back to get proper perspective giving directions, set up the Nativity figures beneath the tree, while the others, with Fritz as foreman, clipped the small candle holders onto its branches.
On Christmas Eve, when the little candles were lit, they all agreed that this was the very best tree they had ever had. Everyone had a gift to give. Jimmy sang an old English carol. His voice light, like a bird, warmly gentle in a man usually so cool. Carl played “O Tannenbaum” on his harmonica as though he was performing it in a concert hall, Peter did a fine rendition of “Jingle Bells” on a paper-wrapped comb, with Rudy accompanying him, playing spoons. Zoltan, who had worked in secret on a conjuring act, with John as his able assistant, did clever tricks with copper pennies, playing cards and bits of colored silk. Johann and Stan had rehearsed a tandem version of “A Visit from Saint Nicholas,” but Stan had to go on alone when Johann, missing his children, choked up during the naming of all the reindeer. Hannah beamed, applauded, proud of her gifted boys, served steaming cider pungent with a special cinnamon stick and clove from Mr. Hirt’s Emporium, accompanied by her gingerbread with its sugar glaze. Fritz, having waited for just the right moment, when it came, sang softly “Brahms’s Lullaby” as he brought the cradle he had fashioned to the young expectant mother in their midst. Jane, kissing his cheek, thanking him, felt the first joy of carrying a child. The candlelit room became still. Men, lonely for home and family, let their thoughts drift back across the sea, yet were content and that was Hannah’s Christmas gift to those in her care.
Rudy broke the trancelike quiet. “Midnight Mass! If we go now we can make it. Who’s coming?”
John looked at his wife to see if she wanted to go. She shook her head. Carl, Stan, and Peter joined Rudy already in the hall hurrying, putting on his galoshes, calling, “Don’t wait up for us. Merry Christmas!”
The front door banged and they were gone. Jane began collecting the cider cups, Fritz rose to blow out the light of the tree—the mood of celebration was at an end.
Christmas day everyone went skating on the big pond next to the Ford plant. Zoltan insisted on lending Jane his skates so the men could teach her how to glide upon the ice Hannah giving them strict orders to make certain she did not fall. Although it was the most exhilarating activity Jane had ever experienced, by the time she had skidded, stumbled and nearly fallen more times than she wanted to count, she returned to where Zoltan was sitting, all forlorn, handed back his skates with heartfelt thanks, assuring him that the time had come for him to enjoy himself while she did the watching. So beautifully did Hannah and Fritz waltz upon the ice, they looked as though they were dancing in a grand ballroom, that other skaters stood aside making room for them. Everyone had a marvelous time. Even the sun came out to join in the fun.