NOTE TO READERS: This is a fictional story. I have never worked in a donut shop before, nor had I ever been in a homeless shelter. Everything I wrote came from my own imagination and the inspiration that flowed into my head.
It was nearing Christmas, and the shoppers were out and about, shopping for their loved ones. Our pastry shop has never been this busy. The workers had been baking the whole day just to fill up the counters with donuts and cakes.
The busiest time was in the afternoon just an hour or so before the evening set in. Many shoppers would stop by our shop to take a break before they would head back home.
I wiped off the counter, making sure it was clean for the next morning. I got to close off the register early this evening because of the Christmas holidays. Our boss had made us a proposition: we could take the 27th off the whole day, or close early a few days before Christmas so we could go shopping or partying. We chose the latter. So, here I was, as always, the last one to leave the shop because I have been assigned many duties - not because I was forced to do them, but after two years on this job, I felt more responsible to the business than the other new employees.
There was extra pressure this holiday season to pay careful attention to cleanliness thanks to the ongoing pandemic – I made sure all of the tables and chairs were thoroughly cleaned, and bleached for good measure.
I packed the leftover donuts, bits and pieces of leftovers from the display shelves and proceeded to put them into boxes to be delivered to the homeless shelter. A volunteer driver would come by soon. There was quite a bit of leftover from today. Mary, the woman who runs the shelter, will appreciate such a load. I wish we could do more for those people. However, I am only an employee of this shop and my boss has not instructed me to give anything else away in terms of a monetary donation, so all I could offer were leftover donuts and cakes each night. I finished clearing out the cash register and put the money into an envelope so I can deposit it to the bank tomorrow morning.
Suddenly, I had a very strange feeling! I felt as though I was being watched. I could sense, someone, somewhere, was watching my every move inside the shop. I looked up and around, and that was when I saw her!
There, in the front of the shop, was that same little girl again! Always peeking in through the front window! She was quite a strange little girl. She was always alone, but surely, she was not a beggar. She was well-dressed and clean, yet, for some reason, she always looked hungry. Her eyes kept focusing on the box of donuts I collected from the counter.
Who is this little girl? Why would she be alone during this time of the year? This isn't the first time she has peeked in from the front of the shop's window. Where are her parents? She could not have been more than 6 years old. I couldn't help but wonder.
“Hello!” I waved at her.
She seemed startled but was not afraid.
I went outside to greet her. She looked much smaller when I stood next to her. I squatted down to her level and asked her, “Would you like to come in?”
She appeared to be very tired. Her hair was a little bit messy because of the wind. I held her little hands and they seemed rather cold.
She did not say anything but nodded her head. So, still holding her little cold hand in mine, I led her inside the shop.
“Now, you just sit here and make yourself comfortable. I am going to make you a cup of hot chocolate, and then you can have a donut too with me,” I said to her.
At the very mention of a shared snack, the child's eyes lit up and a smile formed upon her face. She appeared to be so appreciative of my suggestion.
I went behind the counter and proceeded to make a cup of hot chocolate. Luckily, I had not gotten around to washing the machines yet. So, there was still some hot chocolate left in the machine. I opened up the box and took out a chocolate glazed donut and placed it on the plate to give to the little girl.
Nevermind. I'll wash this plate again later. I told myself.
The little girl ate heartily, and very quickly. She seemed rather hungry. I told her to eat slowly, and if she wanted another donut I would fetch it for her. She finished one, and I gave her another one, after which, she seemed satisfied.
I asked her why she was all alone. She told me her parents had recently died from a traffic accident, leaving her by herself. The judge had assigned her uncle and his wife to care for her. But the girl's custodians - family or not - would often punish her for little things that they thought she had done wrong and denied her food. Sometimes, they would send her out into the streets without allowing her dinner. She admitted that she had been here before, watching everyone eat from the front of the window, but did not dare to come in.
“Oh, you poor thing! You can come to me any time you want! I'm always here, and when you're hungry I can share a donut or two with you, you hear?” I reassured her.
“How old are you?” I asked her again.
“I'm six,” she answered.
What cute little fingers! She's holding on to the mug so well. She seems so happy now after her tummy is filled.
She looked at the Christmas tree that we had on display. Her eyes lit up as if she expected some kind of miracle.
“Miss, can I come to you at Christmas?” She asked.
“Yes, but why? You should stay home on Christmas Eve, as you should wait there for Santa Claus to come to visit you,” I told her. I wanted her to see and feel the magic of Christmas like the way I did when I was a little girl.
“I don't think so,” she shook her head, “Auntie told me I have been a bad girl, so Santa will not stop by our house this year, and there may not be any presents for me under the tree.”
“Sure, he will. Santa Claus is very kind, he will come to you,” I said, reassuring her, “Santa will stop by everyone's house at Christmas. He will not forget.”
Although I was reassuring her, I wondered about her auntie and her uncle. What would it be like if the little girl woke up on Christmas morning and did not find a gift there for herself? I wondered how cruel her auntie and uncle must be to do what they have done to this little girl.
The poor girl must be so alone, and there is no one to file complaints on her behalf. It isn't fair! I told myself.
“I don't know if I would be in the house at Christmas, or being sent into the street,” she continued to tell me, “If I happened to be asked to go into the street can I come here to see Santa?”
“Why? Yes, of course, you can!” I told her, “You can come anytime you want. I'm always here! And if you don't have anywhere to go at Christmas, then come here, Santa will be making his way over here too.”
“Thank you, Miss! You are very kind!”
“You can call me Laura, that's my name. What's yours, little one?”
“Alyssa,” she answered.
“Now, Alyssa! Aren't you glad you've made a friend this evening? I know I am. You are my new friend.”
Alyssa looked up to me with those beautiful hazel eyes, and for the first time, I could see a smile lift the corners of her mouth. I brushed her messy blond curls away from her face and noticed she was a beautiful girl with equally beautiful hazel brown eyes.
How could anyone be so mean to this little girl? All children will do bad things from time to time and make mistakes – it's all a part of growing up - that is why they need to be supervised by adults. But sending her out into the street without giving her food is ridiculous.
“Who else is there with you in that house besides your uncle and your auntie?” I asked, determined to know more about this little girl.
“Mrs. Wilson. She cooks and cleans for us,” she replied.
“Is Mrs. Wilson a good person? Is she kind to you?”
“Yes! Mrs. Wilson looks after me too. Sometimes she will sneak some food into my room after auntie and uncle have gone to sleep.”
“That's good! At least someone in the house is kind to you and making sure you won't go hungry,” I said to her.
“Mrs. Wilson is good to me. Sometimes she would hide things for me. When she buys me little dolls, she would pretend that she has found it on the street, but no one came back to claim it, so she brought it home for me,” the little girl continued.
I'm assuming Mrs. Wilson must be the housemaid, but also acted as a nanny to Alyssa.
“Auntie and uncle would then let me keep the doll because they thought it was only an old doll found in the street. Auntie has never brought home any dolls for me,” she continued to tell me. Then she looked like she was on the verge of tears.
“Don't be sad, Alyssa!” I comforted her, “You are going to be rewarded with good things when you grow up. God knows you have been a good girl and HE will reward you.”
“You sound like Mrs. Wilson!” she smiled broadly, “She told me the same thing too!”
“Well, you see? It must be true , isn't it?” I smiled too. It was contagious.
“Okay, Alyssa! I must be heading out soon. I still have a little more to do here, and then I will be closing the shop for the day,” I told the little girl. Then I wondered where she may go next. I looked outside. There still seemed to be a lot of shoppers walking about.
She jumped down from the chair immediately, as though she thought that she may have made a mistake by staying too long.
“I'm sorry, Miss Laura!” She apologized immediately.
“No, no!” I reassured her, “I'm not urging you to leave. Do you have anywhere to go after this?”
“I might try to go home. Sometimes after I stay outside for a while then uncle will let me go back in,” she said.
“Okay, then. Listen, Alyssa! I'm your new friend and you can come to see me anytime you want. Do you hear me? Don't be wandering around in the streets. There are some bad people around who might try to take you into their cars. If anyone asks you to go with them into their car you do not go with them. You must turn around and run. If they continue to follow you, start screaming loudly to get the attention of everyone around you,” I told her.
“I will do that, Miss Laura,” she said, “And thank you for the donuts and the hot chocolate! I feel much warmer now. I will come to see Santa on Christmas. Please tell him to leave me a present at your shop as my auntie and uncle will not let Santa into our house. They said I have been a bad girl to have caused my parents to die in the accident.”
Oh my! What a thing to have said to a little girl! Such lies from two adults. They should be ashamed of themselves! I thought.
“Don't worry! Santa knows who has been good. You are a good girl, so you deserve a present too from Santa!” I comforted her.
She bid me goodbye with a satisfying smile, and then she was on her way again. I do not know if she was going to go back home. I began to worry about her – my newfound friend.
Yet, I thought about my meager salary, which was just enough for me to put food on the table. I have not got my Christmas bonus yet. I have only a few dollars of change in my pocket. How am I supposed to buy this little girl a present?
I began to worry just thinking about it. I looked at the calendar which shows today is the 22nd, I wondered if I'm ever going to get my bonus at all. If not, how can I buy Alyssa a present from Santa?
Gosh! What will happen if my boss won't give out the Christmas bonuses? I will not be able to get this little girl a gift. Just thinking about this is enough to make me depressed.
I still had a few more chores before officially locking up the pastry. I went over to the counter where the condiments are. I refilled the salt and the pepper shakers and put them in their rightful place. I made sure the ketchup was also refilled and in its proper place before heading to the back of the shop to get the popsicle sticks and the plastic stir sticks and refill the napkin dispensers for the following day. All the while I was thinking about what could I get Alyssa on a budget. The thought of a visit to the dollar store came to mind – perhaps I could find a trinket with the few bucks in my pocket. I was low on cash, and low on energy. I tried to make a mental stock of what I had at home to give away. My mind was now a million miles away.
Then suddenly, I was staring at those popsicle sticks and plastic stir sticks that were in my hands. I suddenly remembered we had a not-so-small cache of popsicle sticks in the back storeroom, leftover from this past summer's ice cream and freshly made fudgesicle bonanza. We held them every season, and just happened to have a surplus in stock – at the time, a sad sight as pandemic-driven lockdowns and re-openings halted our usual summer crowd from enjoying their in-house treats. Now, they seemed a blessing in disguise.
“Goodness! Here is an idea just staring me in the face!” I was overcome with joy.
“Thank you, God!” I said, “I always knew you would make Christmas happen for everyone!”
I proceeded to get a couple of handfuls of the popsicle sticks and an equal handful of the stir sticks. There were plenty of both to spare - my boss bought them in boxes of large quantities for everyone to use.
Finally, with all of my chores completed, I closed up the pastry shop and went to the Dollar Store. I bought glue which cost me $1.25, and some stickers of Christmas ornaments for the same price. I had to be careful what I spend as I only had a few dollars in my pocket. I looked at the glue sticks and remembered I had a glue gun at home too, so all I needed to purchase was one package of glue sticks as well. The grand total for all of my purchases came to less than $4.00. I counted what was in my pocket and found that I had more than $4.00 and that would be enough to cover the tax when I check out.
I went home with the popsicle sticks and the stir sticks and began to make a present for Alyssa. When finished I was so proud of myself. I know Alyssa would love this popsicle-stick house that Santa has made for her. I will tell her that this house was specially made for Alyssa by Santa Claus – this is a very special gift!
I brought the popsicle-stick house into the shop the following day, and received a lot of “ooohs!” and “ahhhs!” Everyone, including my boss, was very impressed to see it. They marvelled at what I could do with such ordinary, everyday condiments. I confessed to my boss that I took a couple of handfuls of the stir sticks and the popsicle sticks from the storeroom to make the house. He told me it was no problem, he was really happy that I could use them for other purposes rather than to just use them to stir the coffee or tea and then throw them away. He said if he hadn't made the gingerbread house he would have had this house for display in the shop.
I told my boss it is a present for a little girl. I told everyone about Alyssa's condition. My boss gave me a special Christmas bonus to reward me for my kindness.
I carefully placed the house inside one of our boxes and wrapped it up and placed it under the tree. On the gift tag, I wrote: To Alyssa: Merry Christmas! A Special Handmade Gift From Santa Claus.
Christmas Eve came and went. I had not seen Alyssa come by, so I assumed she must have been staying home for Christmas.
On Christmas morning I was preparing to close the shop for the day after last night's Christmas party. I took out a large garbage bag and just as I proceeded to put all the ripped-up Christmas wrappings into the bag, Alyssa came into the store with a pale face. She seemed to be very upset and disappointed.
“Alyssa! Merry Christmas, girl! How is my new friend? Did Santa come to your home last night?”
“He came,” she responded, “But only left presents for my uncle and my auntie, but Santa did not leave any for me. I hate Santa!”
My heart just sank to the bottom. Damn!!! How could they be so cruel? I cursed at her uncle and auntie inside my head.
“Guess what, Alyssa! Santa left your present here with me,” I said to her.
“He did?” Her eyes lit up with wide wonderment, filled with the magic of Christmas.
“Yes, he sure did!” I said, “Take a look under the tree!”
“Oh, I'm so sorry, Santa! I'm so sorry for being upset with you this morning! Now I know who and where you have left my present with! Thank you! Thank you! Dear Santa!!!”
She hopped over to the Christmas tree and immediately spotted the box of presents that I left for her. She held it up to show me.
“Yes, he did!!! Look what Santa has left for me!” she exclaimed loudly. Her face was filled with hope and excitement.
“Well, open it up! It's been sitting there all night! Santa must have known you would be here this morning!”
She quickly ripped off the wrapping paper and peeked inside the box. She gasped. She could not contain herself from excitement.
“I've got a house! Santa brought me a house!” She proceeded to take out the popsicle-stick house that I made her. She was beaming from ear to ear.
“Oh, look! There are some people too!” I held the stick people in my hands, “Look, Alyssa! There's the family who lives inside it. Here's the mommy and the daddy," I proceeded to put them inside the house, "This one is the brother, and this one is the sister." I was so proud to introduce the family to Alyssa. She was so happy that she now has a house, complete with a family inside!
“Oh, look over here, these must be their friends coming to join the Christmas party!” I showed her the other little stick people I had in my hand.
Alyssa took the guests off my hands. I watched her as she placed them into the house with great care.
Good! I told myself. These are going to be her little friends, and she will not feel alone anymore.
Thank you, God, for making Christmas happen for both Alyssa and me!
JUST THE KIND OF STORY I NEEDED ON CHRISTMAS EVE. THANK YOU SANDIE...ENJOYED AND APPRECIATED VERY MUCH. MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU! LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...HIS+INSPIRATIONS
The popsicle house with a family of popsicle stick people as a gift to the orphan girl was a great idea and very creative! Your story is beautiful, heartwarming and inspiring. A timely story for Christmas. Thank you for sharing!
What a heartwarming story! Only someone with your craft skill could write one like this. But I still feel bad that the aunt and uncle, wealthy enough to have a maid, would think Alyssa a bad girl for the accident that she survived and her parents didn't.
Thanks for writing it for us and for little children that are treated badly in foster homes throughout the country in the world through no fault of their own except they are orphans.
A beautiful story Sandie. It's unfortunate that such a sweet story has to include the bad actions of her Aunt and Uncle An interesting story and you've done a great job in writing especially since you include the feelings of the real Santa in your story. God Bless and Have a very Merry Christmas. lefty
Very nice story, Sandi. I could almost see you mind going from point to point on just how to make a doll house out of plastic straws and popsicle sticks. Bet you did this all in one day or night. Sometimes when the words are thoughts, those thoughts have 'got' to come forth... Very nice Christmas story. 'Broken Rose' episode has a little girl also, and a little boy that might or might not even be where they are.
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