Eleventh Day of Christmas Story
Joey
The store windows were just as magnificent as they had been last week, but Joey stared unseeingly into them. He didn't notice the electric train that he had admired for over a half hour; and he didn't even laugh when the toy conductor hopped on and off at each station... Joey was thinking about last night.
In all his nine years, he had never had to make such an important decision. When he had come home from school, he noticed that his mother, who was usually cheerful, looked worried. After dinner, Joey's mother had said, "Joey, you help Connie get to bed, will you, please?"
Of course," Joey had re;lied. "What story are you going to read us tonight?"
"None, tonight dear," his mother had said, and Joey was too surprised to protest. He could not remember one single night that his mother had not read them a story or poem. Connie had gone quietly to bed because she, too, was confused. After Joey had listened to his little sister's simple prayer, he returned to the kitchen.
"Joey," his mother said then, "I want to talk to you." They both sat down at the kitchen table. "It's about Rags. Rags is a good little dog and never causes any trouble at all, but it still costs money to feed him." Joey kept his eyes down. He was afraid of what was coming. "You need a new winter coat badly this year, and yesterday when I priced them they were more expensive than I had counted on. I'm sorry, Joey, but if we keep Rags, you can't have a winter coat this year."
Joey knew that he needed the winter coat. His old one was so terribly small, it looked silly on him and was so worn out and torn that it didn't begin to keep the cold out. But, Joey also needed Rags. He looked at the little dog lying by the cold hearth. He knew that Connie played with the dog all day while Joey was at school. What would she do without Rags? Bug, what would he do without a winter coat? His mother continued. "I love Rags as much as you do Joey. The decision is yours."
Joey thought. "Can I tell you in the morning?"
"Of course," his mother had said. Joey knew that his mother realized how he loved the little dog he had found three years ago. She gave him a hug and a kiss and he had run off to bed. But he did not sleep. He had cried and cried and cried all night long because he knew what the decision must be. His eyes were red and swollen when he told his mother that he would take Rage to town after school and give him away to somebody. His mother had tried to smile. "Some other family can probably give him better food and a warmer place to sleep than we can anyway." Joey knew this was true.
A sudden bark reminded Joey that he was down town with Rags in his arms. He had been there an hour and his feet and hands were ice-cold. He gave Rags a squeeze and touched his lips to Rag's ear. He stared slowly up the street. People couldn't help noticing the tiny figure who was so thinly clad and carrying a dog. Nor could they overlook the expression of complete unhappiness that was on his face. While passing the pet store Joey heard a little boy say, "Oh Mother, I'm going to ask Santa to bring me that little spotted puppy." Joey looked at the little boy. Then he looked at the lady beside him as she said, "But, Richard, Santa is already bringing you so many things that he hasn't room in his bag for a puppy dog."
Joey took a deep breath and walked up to the boy. "You can have this dog. His name is Rags and..." Joey almost choked as he finished his sentence... "and he's such a good dog."
The boy laughed, and the mother smiled. "Rags is certainly a good name. I don't want that dog, Mother. He's too ugly!" Joey felt the tears burning his eyes. He turned and ran down the street. Rags was thin and scrawny, and his fur was dull and unbrushed, but that didn't matter to Joey. Joey loved his little dog.
Joey slushed through the snow, not knowing or caring where he was going. Rags snuggled up against him and helped to keep him warm. Suddenly Joey saw a Christmas tree in the window of a large brick house. The Christmas tree was just as pretty as the ones in the store windows. He walked up the path and peeked into the window. The lovely green boughs of the Christmas tree were decorated with ornaments of gay colors, and they spread over beautifully wrapped gifts. Joey looked at the smiling angel on top. "The people who live here certainly must be happy." Joey thought. "I'll bet they'd be good to Rags." He rang the doorbll, and after a moment's wait, the door opened. Joey was silent. He had hardly been aware of what he was doing and when a lady appeared at the door, he had absolutely no idea of what to say or do. "Would you like this dog? His name is Rags," is what Joey finally blurted out. He could hear children fighting inside.
The lady said, "What would we want with such a dog? and shut the door.
Joey stood before the closed door, speeechless. How could anyone with such a beautiful Christmas tre and nice house be so grouchy and impolite? Joey slowly walked down the path. Well, he was glad that they didn't want Rags. They seemed like such a grumpy family they probaly wouldn't love Rags at all. Rags began to get restless and Joey decided that he had better hurry and give him to someone. It got a little bit harder each time. Resolutlely he walked to the door of the next house. He could smell spicy cookies and he could hear gay music. "These people must be happy," he thought as he pushed the doorbell. This time a teenaged girl answered the door. "This is my dog, Rags," said Joey. "Would you take him? We can't keep him anymore."
The girl smiled, but her reply was firm. "We really have no use for a dog."
Just then a little girl streaked through the hall with a boy about Joey's age in pursuit. He gave the little girl a swat that sent her rolling on the floor, and screams followed. "My goodness," thought Joey as the door closed, "these people can't be happpy at all. If I treated Connie like that, we certainly wouldn't have any fun." He was glad that these people didn't want Rags either.
Joey went to the next house. A man came to the door, and when he heard what Joey wanted, he laughed. "Ella," he said to the lady in the next room. "this little boy wants to give us a dog."
"A what?" asked the lady, and then she began to laugh, too. The man slammed the door so hard it almost hit Joey in the face. He turned and ran and ran and ran. He slid twice in the snow, but was up again eah time, still clutching Rags. He finally burst into his own little home and fell exhausted and sobbing in his Mother's arms.
At the sight of Rags, Connie squealed with delight. The mother was wise enough not to question Joey at that time. She took his wet clothies off and put his warm pajamas on him. Then she gave him a a bowl of steaming hot porridge. Still sobbing, Joey said, "Nobody loved Rags, Mother. All the people have pretty Christmas trees, and many presents, and good food to eat, and nice house to live in, and they all have warm witner coats, but none of them are happy. They could probably give Rags better food, but we love him. Don't make me give him away, Mother, please don't. I can go without a winter coat."
On Christmas morning while Mother read the Christmas story from the Bible, Connie and Joey sat in ther cold little house with Rags between them. As Joey heard the humble story of the birth of Christ, he knew that pretty Christmas trees, or presents, or expensive food, or nice homes didn't make people happy. It was love. And then Joey knew that they were the happiest family in the city: Mother, Joey, Connie, and Rags.
In all his nine years, he had never had to make such an important decision. When he had come home from school, he noticed that his mother, who was usually cheerful, looked worried. After dinner, Joey's mother had said, "Joey, you help Connie get to bed, will you, please?"
Of course," Joey had re;lied. "What story are you going to read us tonight?"
"None, tonight dear," his mother had said, and Joey was too surprised to protest. He could not remember one single night that his mother had not read them a story or poem. Connie had gone quietly to bed because she, too, was confused. After Joey had listened to his little sister's simple prayer, he returned to the kitchen.
"Joey," his mother said then, "I want to talk to you." They both sat down at the kitchen table. "It's about Rags. Rags is a good little dog and never causes any trouble at all, but it still costs money to feed him." Joey kept his eyes down. He was afraid of what was coming. "You need a new winter coat badly this year, and yesterday when I priced them they were more expensive than I had counted on. I'm sorry, Joey, but if we keep Rags, you can't have a winter coat this year."
Joey knew that he needed the winter coat. His old one was so terribly small, it looked silly on him and was so worn out and torn that it didn't begin to keep the cold out. But, Joey also needed Rags. He looked at the little dog lying by the cold hearth. He knew that Connie played with the dog all day while Joey was at school. What would she do without Rags? Bug, what would he do without a winter coat? His mother continued. "I love Rags as much as you do Joey. The decision is yours."
Joey thought. "Can I tell you in the morning?"
"Of course," his mother had said. Joey knew that his mother realized how he loved the little dog he had found three years ago. She gave him a hug and a kiss and he had run off to bed. But he did not sleep. He had cried and cried and cried all night long because he knew what the decision must be. His eyes were red and swollen when he told his mother that he would take Rage to town after school and give him away to somebody. His mother had tried to smile. "Some other family can probably give him better food and a warmer place to sleep than we can anyway." Joey knew this was true.
A sudden bark reminded Joey that he was down town with Rags in his arms. He had been there an hour and his feet and hands were ice-cold. He gave Rags a squeeze and touched his lips to Rag's ear. He stared slowly up the street. People couldn't help noticing the tiny figure who was so thinly clad and carrying a dog. Nor could they overlook the expression of complete unhappiness that was on his face. While passing the pet store Joey heard a little boy say, "Oh Mother, I'm going to ask Santa to bring me that little spotted puppy." Joey looked at the little boy. Then he looked at the lady beside him as she said, "But, Richard, Santa is already bringing you so many things that he hasn't room in his bag for a puppy dog."
Joey took a deep breath and walked up to the boy. "You can have this dog. His name is Rags and..." Joey almost choked as he finished his sentence... "and he's such a good dog."
The boy laughed, and the mother smiled. "Rags is certainly a good name. I don't want that dog, Mother. He's too ugly!" Joey felt the tears burning his eyes. He turned and ran down the street. Rags was thin and scrawny, and his fur was dull and unbrushed, but that didn't matter to Joey. Joey loved his little dog.
Joey slushed through the snow, not knowing or caring where he was going. Rags snuggled up against him and helped to keep him warm. Suddenly Joey saw a Christmas tree in the window of a large brick house. The Christmas tree was just as pretty as the ones in the store windows. He walked up the path and peeked into the window. The lovely green boughs of the Christmas tree were decorated with ornaments of gay colors, and they spread over beautifully wrapped gifts. Joey looked at the smiling angel on top. "The people who live here certainly must be happy." Joey thought. "I'll bet they'd be good to Rags." He rang the doorbll, and after a moment's wait, the door opened. Joey was silent. He had hardly been aware of what he was doing and when a lady appeared at the door, he had absolutely no idea of what to say or do. "Would you like this dog? His name is Rags," is what Joey finally blurted out. He could hear children fighting inside.
The lady said, "What would we want with such a dog? and shut the door.
Joey stood before the closed door, speeechless. How could anyone with such a beautiful Christmas tre and nice house be so grouchy and impolite? Joey slowly walked down the path. Well, he was glad that they didn't want Rags. They seemed like such a grumpy family they probaly wouldn't love Rags at all. Rags began to get restless and Joey decided that he had better hurry and give him to someone. It got a little bit harder each time. Resolutlely he walked to the door of the next house. He could smell spicy cookies and he could hear gay music. "These people must be happy," he thought as he pushed the doorbell. This time a teenaged girl answered the door. "This is my dog, Rags," said Joey. "Would you take him? We can't keep him anymore."
The girl smiled, but her reply was firm. "We really have no use for a dog."
Just then a little girl streaked through the hall with a boy about Joey's age in pursuit. He gave the little girl a swat that sent her rolling on the floor, and screams followed. "My goodness," thought Joey as the door closed, "these people can't be happpy at all. If I treated Connie like that, we certainly wouldn't have any fun." He was glad that these people didn't want Rags either.
Joey went to the next house. A man came to the door, and when he heard what Joey wanted, he laughed. "Ella," he said to the lady in the next room. "this little boy wants to give us a dog."
"A what?" asked the lady, and then she began to laugh, too. The man slammed the door so hard it almost hit Joey in the face. He turned and ran and ran and ran. He slid twice in the snow, but was up again eah time, still clutching Rags. He finally burst into his own little home and fell exhausted and sobbing in his Mother's arms.
At the sight of Rags, Connie squealed with delight. The mother was wise enough not to question Joey at that time. She took his wet clothies off and put his warm pajamas on him. Then she gave him a a bowl of steaming hot porridge. Still sobbing, Joey said, "Nobody loved Rags, Mother. All the people have pretty Christmas trees, and many presents, and good food to eat, and nice house to live in, and they all have warm witner coats, but none of them are happy. They could probably give Rags better food, but we love him. Don't make me give him away, Mother, please don't. I can go without a winter coat."
On Christmas morning while Mother read the Christmas story from the Bible, Connie and Joey sat in ther cold little house with Rags between them. As Joey heard the humble story of the birth of Christ, he knew that pretty Christmas trees, or presents, or expensive food, or nice homes didn't make people happy. It was love. And then Joey knew that they were the happiest family in the city: Mother, Joey, Connie, and Rags.
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