Christmas was coming and the streets were crowded with shoppers looking for last minute gifts .The year was almost at an end . The town was brightly lit with lights of many colours wrapped around Christmas trees and scattered amongst various displays in the terraces and shopping centres .
Crowds were making their way along sidewalks passing the street busker who was singing songs to the city as if he was leaving a memorial to a lost city that he had found and claimed as his own . With a six string under his arm he hoped the passers by would be generous on this festive season so that he could eat and drink and be merry for just a once upon a time .
He stood on the corner there where people often came and went. A passer by reached out his hand to the busker .
”Hello there . Christmas is coming soon “
He said .
The busker took his hand and shook it and said .
'It won’t be long now until Christmas comes ."
The man replied
“ Come on and I’ll buy you pint "
The busker followed him down the street and in through the door of a crowded bar . The pub was full of people the noise was a rattling of chatter and laughter . The busker was brought to a table where a group of the man’s friends were sitting . Drinks were ordered for all the people present and when the waiter brought the tray someone in the company asked for a song .
The busker played a few songs and the atmosphere was warm . After each song another pint arrived . The busker played a few more songs and the people sang along . The crowd all were happy and a great night was had by all . Finally the pub had to close and everyone made their way out on to the footpath . The busker followed the crowd out to the footpath and saw a large queue of people standing in line at a fish and chip shop . Hungry for a feed there were many putting in their orders at the chipper.
Further on up the road there was another queue waiting for a taxi cab and every minute that passed taxis were pulling up and then taking off .
The busker started to walk back to his temporary home . Since arriving in Lost City he had not been able to find any suitable lodgings and for the past few months he had slept at night in a derelict building near the City centre . As yet no one had told him to leave and so he stayed there at least it kept him dry and out of the rain . Even more he was safe and out of sight at night . With the money he made busking he ate during the day and shaved and kept clean by using the local indoor heated swimming pool .
His regular performance was welcomed around different spots in the city . Christmas was the best time for busking with extra people out celebrating at night . He and his guitar had been busking street events for years . It was nice to be in the company of passers by , although they were strangers they were his audience his meal ticket , his connection to the life he lived .
The buskers feet were always sore and his fingers numb but he loved this time of year .
It was Christmas Eve and all the pubs had closed . He was making his way back to the derelict building when he noticed a bright star in the sky . It seemed to be moving up and down . Then it turned red in colour . He thought to himself , how weird is that .
He made his way through the wire fence around the building into the room where he had some cardboard on the floor .
The street lights outside shone through the windows allowing a half light into the room .
As he began to drift off to sleep a stranger opened the door to where was squatting and shone a torch into his eyes . Walking towards him slowly the busker said .
“Hello . Can I help you .“
The intruder put the torch down and said ,
“Hey, were you playing in the pub in Washington Street a few nights ago ?”
“Yes where you there ?“ the busker replied .
The stranger smiled and said
“Sure I was .”
The busker smiled and said ,
“That’s right you were the man who bought me a pint . Aren't you . What a great night it was. “
The man replied
“ Yeah . So what are you doing in here?”
The busker smiled and said ,
“Where’s that. Like here in this luxury apartment you mean ?”
”Yea that’s right . Here in this dump ." He said
“Well the thing is you see I don't have anywhere else and I’ve just come to spend Christmas here in town busking "
As he answered the busker got to his feet and played a little Christmas song . The visitor clapped his hands and said
, “ Come on you I have a better place where can stay . I have an empty room in this old Georgian place in town and I’d be more than happy for you to stay until the new year because I’m leaving the country then for a new job overseas .. You can stay with me until then if you like “.
The busker grabbed his guitar and grip bag and followed him out the door into the main street .
They walked past the City Hall and down through the town and over the bridge to a street lined with quaint old Georgian buildings where the kind man opened up the door of one of the homes and they both went inside . The busker was shown a room . It had a wardrobe and a bed . There were blankets on the bed and a pillow for his head .
“Good night . What did you say your name was ?“
‘I’m Nicolas “
he said and the busker replied .
“People call me Skin . “
“So Skin , tell me why do you stand on the street corners , in the cold day and night singing ?”
He asked and the busker said ,
“Well , the thing is Nicolas I love music and the people I used to live with didn’t . So I had no choice and decided to leave and since that day I’ve been travelling around singing songs and playing my guitar “
Nicolas turned and walked out then closed the door .
That night as the busker lay down in a warm bed , it felt like heaven . He had a roof over his head and life was good . He noticed that red star again outside the window . It was still moving up and down and shone in shades of red . He wanted that moment to last forever but in that thought he floated off to sleep .
Morning came and outside the window the wind was howling and the rain was lashing on the window pane The busker said quietly
“ You’ll not have me in the city streets today That’s for sure ‘“
Then he remembered , it was Christmas morning so he got up out of bed but Nicolas was gone . But at the end of the bed was a Christmas stocking . A few presents were left there with a card and a message that was for written for him “
Happy Christmas busker . I wanted to stay but had to leave in a hurry . The job I have requires me to get around to lots of different places . There’s food in the kitchen and wood near the fireplace . There should be enough groceries in the cupboards for a month two .Stay as long as you like , I won’t be able to return until next Christmas comes around again . Make yourself at home.
It was Christmas all right for the busker and not a sound could be heard anywhere . He was all alone in the big house and could play his guitar and sing without upsetting anyone .
Later in the day there was a knock on the door and the busker opened it to see a man dressed up like a santa . Hey cleared his throat and said ,
“Anyway Nicolas told me to give you this message . I just wanted to say thanks for the music you bring to people on Christmas .“
There was a silence for a moment, then he continued
“Oh Skin , another thing the house is yours I’ve no need for it anymore . The keys in your guitar case . Happy Christmas .”
The man dressed up like Santa at the door turned his back and called away .
mTHe busker stood there for what seemed a half hour and shed a few tears . He had never known such kindness before in his life .
He thought to himself , who ever this angel was at Christmas I am so grateful .
Before Christmas came the following year Skin had recording contract with a music publisher and a permanent address .
Gone were the days of him trying to make small change singing on street corners . His hardships were now a thing of the past and life had got a lot easier for him .
He never saw Nicolas again but every year justin case he always I set an extra plate on the table . Skin had a professional career in music and soon found a wife .
In a few years children arrived and he often told his four kids the story of Nicolas and the miracle of Christmas .
'Catholic Voices in a World on Fire' Anthology, includes 'The Poorest of the Poor'; by Judy Joy Jones which is a chapter from her upcoming book about her volunteer work at Mother Teresas houses around the world including her house in Washington DC w
