A christmas story in New York TLLVA

The best Christmas ever

It was a Christmas day, and like every Christmas since my wife’s death, 5 years ago, I was alone and sad. That day is so painful for me. I had the impression, that Christmas was a trivial day for everyone, while for me thas day was very special. On that day, my city, New York, seemed very dark and sad. So, I was in my shop, a black man entered, I looked at him and I thought that he probably had the chance to spend Christmas with his family, his wife or his friends.

Suddenly, he took a magazine and ran out of my shop ; I ran after him but he was very fast and I quickly lost sight of him. Looking down, I saw his wallet on the floor and took it,  put it in my pocket, closed the shop and went home.

It was 7 p.m, I was smoking alone in my living room and I opened the wallet that I had let close till then. I saw a picture of a black man with his mother or his grandmother, I didn’t know.

There was an adress, I reflected and told myself that it was Christmas  and everybody needed a second chance, so I decided to take the wallet back to the man.

Once arrived, a black woman opened the door to me, it was the same woman as on the picture, she looked special, she looked at me oddly, as if she didn’t see me but no trace of the thief. The woman offered me to enter in her apartment, I didn’t know if it was what I wanted, I was a little uncomfortable.

Then, I thought I was lonely for Christmas day and she was too, so I decided to stay with her and I spent a very good evening, it had been the best Christmas in a long time…

At the end of the evening, the woman was sleeping. On her table, there was a camera and I chose to steal it, and to let the wallet in exchange. Anyway, she was blind so the camera would never serve her and I thought that the thief would be happy to find his wallet. I was a little remorseful for my theft but I thought I had made her spend a good Christmas evening.

Anna

When all my Christmases came together

It was sleeting outside. My eyes were on the crowded street of New York visible through the mist-covered window. People were making some last minute shopping hurriedly. This street was always so incredibly lively. You could meet so many different types of people amongst the crowd. This neighborhood was brimming with diversity. I would have loved to immortalize this place by taking pictures of it. I just had to wait until I could afford it.

As people were bustling with activity in the chilly winter, I could not help but feel sorrowful. The Christmas joy had left me a while ago. When Mom passed away on the 17th of December two years ago, I was left alone, drowning in misery. Ever since, Christmas discombobulated me. Sullenness whelved itself inside my heart.

I was sitting behind the counter of my tobacco shop when the bell rang, notifying me that a client had entered. I was still kind of lost in my thoughts so I didn’t notice his suspicious behavior. I was about to greet him when he grabbed a magazine and swiftly hid it under his jacket and fled as fast as he could. I scurried out of the store and chased after him.

I just had time to see his wallet fall from his pocket. When I looked up, he was already fading into the crowd and I lost sight of him. I took his wallet, thinking I would find away to give it back to him somehow.

I finished my work day without worrying too much about it. I got home and sat in my kitchen where my tiny Christmas tree was lit up. I searched the wallet and found pictures of a woman with a younger man, and I assumed they were related. There was an address as well.

The very next day, I drove to the neighborhood. There were plenty of council estates. I walked over to the door and knocked.

A feeble lady opened the door and exclaimed exictedly, « Hello ! Sweet grandson ! I thought you’d never show up! » she rambled on and on and I was getting embarassed that she was expressing such joy because she mistook me for someone else. Was she expecting her grandson to spend Christmas with her ?

When she stopped talking, I spoke up, « I’m terribly sorry, ma’am, I’m not your grandson. I just came here because he lost his wallet in the street. »

Her whole demeanor changed as she stiffened. « One can only wish, » she mumbled, her voice laced with sadness. « It was too good to be true. » She looked so disheartened.

A long silence settled between us as I stood there in the corridor, I was lost for words. My gaze was on feet. I felt her loneliness. Yet as she slowly raised her head, her eyes were lit with hope.

« Do you have anything planned tonight for Christmas Eve ? »

Those mere words were heartwarming. « As a matter of fact, I don’t, » a smile lifted my lips. And that is how the old woman and me ended up spending Christmas Eve together.

Laurine et Clarisse

A Christmas story

One day like the others, I was working in my shop on a dark day when a man entered. He was looking at my magazines and then he suddenly stole one of them. He escaped quickly and I decided to run after him to have my magazine back. I was angry. But actually I didn’t really care about my magazine but now that I’m telling these story, I realized that it was the trigger of my new life. He ran faster than me but at one point, his wallet fell. I stop running to pick it up. I thought I could denounce him to the police as I had his identity. But what for? Was I really going to speak  out somebody for stealing  a magazine!? There, I realized that I really had no goal in my life. My life was without sense. Then, I just came home. Alone. Still alone. My house was empty and grey as always. I  decided to look what was inside the mysterious wallet as I was nothing to do.

There were many photos. On the pictures, there were members of his family but the face of a woman often came back. She was pretty and had a joyful face. It was like  looking at her smile enlighted your day.

She was young on these old pictures, she carried a baby in her arms on one of the pictures. Maybe this woman was his mother. Taking a look at these photos unsettled me. Immediately, I wasn’t angry anymore. In my case, I hadn’t seen my family for a very long time. We just stopped talking to one another naturally. Anyway, I had never been close to my parents or my siblings. Remembering some memories hurt so much that I left the wallet with the pictures in my living room and went to sleep. That night there, I didn’t sleep well, I was tormented when I saw the pictures of the table, I decided to meet the man who had stolen from me.

I was  at the address which was indicated on the identity card. The doubt suddenly spread  my mind. I was just in front of the  man’s apartment and I was wondering if it was the right thing to do. An old woman opened  the door. She  had a beautiful smile but it seemed she couldn’t see . She was blind. She made me a hug because she thought I was somebody else. I was puzzled. This contact was warm. It’d  been a long time since I hadn’t felt the warmth of another body. This human warmth. She released her embrace and then I saw more precisely her face. She was the woman on the pictures. She was older and seemed to be more vulnerable and fragile but she was still wonderful and lively. Then I realized that she had taken me for someone else.

I panicked and said I was a friend of Steve’s, the owner of the wallet. For a while, her smile disapeared and I could see sadness in her tired eyes.

She wasn’t angry, she was only disappointed. A few seconds later, her smile was back and she told me to enter in her appartment. There was nobody else in there. A lot of family pictures were exposed everywhere. There was a little Christmas tree too. I had tottally forgotten that it was Christmas. The old woman named “Mary” had prepared an entire Christmas dinner. She told me that every year, she prepared a dinner just in case but she was always alone in the end. She was happy a friend of her grandson had came that time. She told me a lot of anecdotes about Steve when he was young after we had eaten the traditional turkey. We laughed a lot; I didn’t see the time pass. Before falling asleep, Mary told me that she had bought a gift for Steve as every year.  But that time, she wanted to give it to me. That moment would stay in my heart until my death, it was the first time in years that I had felt so well. I took the gift, left the wallet on the  table.

I looked a last time at the angelic face of the woman. She semed to be at peace in her sleep. This meeting would change my existence. The gift was a little camera. Since that day, that camera has never left me . This has been a symbol of hope for me ever since.

Emeline et Marie-Jeanne

Christmas story

My story began a day before Christmas eve. As always, I was in my cigar shop, early in the morning staring at the window. I usually don’t have many clients at that hour, thus I enjoy my short contemplation time, especially in winter. The streets were covered in an immaculate coat of snow, people were rushing to get Christmas gifts, to go to work or they were merely rushing. I always have this strange feeling around holidays: they are made to gather people, however we always seem stuck in our fast day to day lives and lonely eventually. Funny, in such a crowded city like New York.

As I was thinking, I didn’t notice my first client of the day although I had heard the bell ring.

Well, he was more of a thief than a client: as soon as he came in, he grabbed something-probably a journal, he was standing in front of the paper section and suddenly ran away, bringing me back from my thoughts. I tried to catch him but I soon lost his track. However, he had dropped his wallet, a brown-leathered one. I took it, for a reason that I still don’t know, destiny I guess.

Around eight, I headed back home. Remember how I was telling you about Christmas loneliness? I wish I had sons and daughters to hold in my arms, a wife to kiss, a family to love. This led me to the thief wallet.

Maybe he had a family to spend that holidays with. I sat at my kitchen table, next to my  tiny dazzling electric Christmas tree-it was a bit tacky, but I can’t help but enjoy some Christmas magic.

The paper thief indeed had a family: there was a picture with a young woman holding a baby. It seemed like the photo had been taken a long time ago. As I was checking the wallet, I found an address,his, I assumed. Then I wondered: why would one keep his own address? Fate and destiny have their own secret ways. I decided to go to this address the next day, without knowing what I was going to say, or simply why I was driving to a stranger’s house, who happened to have stolen in my shop on Christmas Eve.

I stood still in front of the door for a couple of minutes, trying to think of a proper greeting. I ended up knocking on it, and a elderly woman opened. She looked like the lady on the picture. I assumed the thief lived with his mother.

She took a step forward and brushed my elbows I noticed that she was blind.

Suddenly, she took me in her arms, and held me tight. She might have thought that I was her son visiting her for Christmas, she may have been waiting for him. Then, she released me, slowly: she was well aware that I wasn’t who she was expecting to meet. The minute I started to explain myself, she nodded vividly and offered me to come in.

Holidays are made to celebrate and gather people. Christmas–and odds– had united that  blind old lady and a dreamy cigar shop owner who had nothing in common but loneliness. i had a blissful dinner, and got to know her.

She had been a nurse, had got married to a soldier ine Alabama, had marched from Selma to Montgomery in 1965, then had moved to New York whan she had got pregnant for the first time. I told her about my shop and how I loved observing the streets in the morning in winter. After dinner, she fell asleep on the couch. i figured I should be headed home and took the wallet out of my pocket to leave it on the table.

There was a camera on the table. While eating dessert, she had told me about it, that her daughter had got it for her befor Christmas because she couldn’t be there. She had laughed about her inability to use a camera. Thus I took it. It was not stealing, I was honoring her daughter’s present. I decided to believe that the camera had not been there by chance, it was mean to be a memory of that day. From then on, I started taking a picture of my shop every single morning, instead of sitting alone, staring at the city. Now, I mmortalize it, its constant change, its people and its history, through shots taken from my cigar shop.

Sarah et Mathilde

Smoke : A christmas story

« I remember.  It was a cold winter morning, maybe a Saturday… There were a lot of cars outside, that day. I couldn’t focus on my drawing with that traffic. »

«  What were you drawing ? asked Paul, with his hand ready to write on his notebook.”

“ The same drawing as usual. Always the same… The crossroad in front of my cigar shop, I answered”

Paul sighed, took of his glasses, and gazed at me deeply for a few seconds. Finally, he asked again :

“What were you drawing, Auggie ?”

“I think you already know what I have been drawing every single day since the 1st of April 1996. You know, the accident…”

“Yes, I heard about it. It’s tragic. Can you tell me more… details about this story? I mean… if it doesn’t move you too much.”

I took a few seconds to remind of all the details of the story I was going to tell Paul Benjamin.

“On the 1^st of April 1996, my wife was coming back from school with my son, Patrick. I saw them through the bay window of my cigar shop, I raised my hand to salute them, I was so pleased to see my kid! Then , Patrick started running, holding his mother’s hand, maybe he was too happy to wait for the green boy… The truck didn’t have the time to curb… And you know what happened next, Paul…”

There was a silence. Paul was too shocked to talk, and I was too sad to sympathize. After a long minute of silence, Paul took a deep breath and said :

“So… We… You… You didn’t talk about the “cold winter morning”.”

“Oh yes”, I remembered, “so, that morning, I was drawing, and a black man entered my shop. He seemed normal, so I just said what I usually say: ‘Hello, sir , can I help you ?’  I know that all my customers already know what they want to smoke. So I do my duty by saying that , and I return to my drawing.”

“But, I heard a suspect noise. I raised my head, looked at the black man, and I noticed that he was sweating a lot. He stared at me, and suddenly he stole one of my most expensive magazine! I didn’t think about the danger, I ran after him! But, you know, I think I smoke too much… He sewed me easily… But, he dropped his wallet, that  moron! I picked it up of course, and went back to my shop.”

I noticed that Paul was looking weirdly at me, he was frowning, and he stopped writing. He said :

“So… That’s all? I mean… When you called me, you said that you wanted to tell me the most interesting story in the world, and, for the moment, it’s not interesting at all…

“But my story isn’t over at all. Wait until the end, amigo!”

I grabbed my beer and I took a long sip. thus I was ready to continue my story.

“So, at home, in the evening, I opened the wallet and I analyzed it. Some cash receipts, a condom, a few cents, a couple of photos and his driver’s licnece. the man who had stolen my magazine was called Joe Samsonite.

“Did you know him?”

“Not at all. But I found his address and I looked at the photos, I saw his mother with him, celebrating thanksgiving. So I decided to meet her.” I took another sip of beer.

“Why did you want to meet her, Auggie? And how did you find her address?”

“You know, Samsonite isn’t a typical family name. I found Martha Samsonite just over Joe Samsonite in the list. And I wanted to meet her because I wanted her to know that her son was a thief.”

“That’s a kind of logic”.

“Therefore, I decided to visit her for Christma because I was alone and I wanted to have fun.”

“What happened next?”

“When she opened the door, I noticed that she was as blind as a mole, and she took me for her son!”

” That’s rather comical”.

“Hum, yes, if you want. Let me continue. I played the part, because it was pleasant to get some hugs from her. I talked to her about “myself”. I had dinner with her and she drank too much wine, because she quickly fell asleep on the couch. I finished the dinner watching her sleep peacefully. that’s what I liked about her, I could stare at her as much as I wanted without her noticing and the moment being awkward.”

paul was write more and more on his notebook. I took my last sip of beer, crushed the can and burped loudly.

“When I finished my trukey, I stood up, I walked to my new sleeping friend, I kissed her on the forehead to wish her goodnight, I put my hands around her neck and I strangled her to death. i tightened her neck for 5 minutes before I could remove my hands. then, I dropped Joe’s wallet on the table and noticed a full-packed camera. my Christmas present! I thought taking pictures was faster than drawing the crossroads in front of my shop.”

Paul wrote the last sentence and closed his notebook. He yelled:”Open the door!” the door opened, paul stood up, said goodbye and left the room. he looked at the guard standing next to him:”I am done, her confessed.”

Then the guard closed the cell door.

Adrien et maxime

Three days befor Christmas, I was there in the cigar shop where I usually buy my newspaper, but that day was not like any other. I noticed a man, quite nervous, who had entered the shop. He was heading towards the magazines and was weirdly looking around him. I was next to him so I saw the entire scen. he quickly grabbed a magazine, with a lot of planets and stars a-on the cover, and he hid it under his coat. Everything went fast, he suddenly ran away and the shop owner ran after him. I was shocked, taht scene had taken place just under my eyes. Curious, I ran out to see what would happen, and I was surprised when i saw the thief running as if his own life depended on it. It was a simple magazine of five dollars, maybe less, why would he act like that?  I was so disappointed to see acts of delinquency.

Three days had passed and christmas was there. I was working in an orphanage and had planned to spend Christmas with the children wha had no family. It was a warm moment, when all the children considered themselves a a real family. Early in the morning, everyone started opening the presents given. I had never seen as much joy in that place. the children were so happy, but one obviously felt overwhelmed, he was crying with joy. i asked him the reason of his tears and she showed me a ticket with a magazine that I immediately recognized. 3someone offred me a limited ticket which gives me the possibility to visit the NASA. there were only five tickets like that and I had abandonned the idea of getting one one day. But that ticket is just here, in my hands, I can’t believe it.”

I can’t really describe what I felt at that moment. it was a mix of happiness, excitment, emotion and culpability. yes, culpability. Because I had severely judged a man who had made that kid happier tha ever in his life.

I don’t know who the man was but there was a not on the gift, written “for Ethan, merry Christmas.” the man knwe the kid enough to know what would please him.

No matter who you are, i just want to thank you for this amazing thought and for the gift it represented for all of us. the lesson  that I learnt that day made that Christmas the most wonderful of all.

Today was just like any other day, just sitting at the counter in the shop, looking at the people passing by ,when a man entered. He stopped in front of the magazines, until he suddenly took one of them and started running. I took a moment to realize what had happened, and a few seconds later I also started running after him. Unfortunately, he was too fast, and I couldn’t keep up with him in the crowded streets. I stopped to take a breath when I noticed that something had fallen on the ground, it was his wallet. I was tired after running so much, so I decided to close the shop and go home, no one would come that day anyway. After arriving home, I lit a cigarette and thought about the day for a while, inspecting the wallet.

It was a christmas day and I was bored to death, with no family or friend to see, I was kind of lonely. While I was thinking, I found some pictures in one of the wallet pocket. There were some of a chid and a single one of an old lady, with the same boy looking older. While analyzing the picture, I noticed that the she wasn’t looking at the photographer, it was kind of strange, she may have been blind ? I suddenly had an idea, if I could find her, I might be able to embody her grandson to get inside her house and take back what he grandson stole ? Since I was bored and didn’t know what to do, to me, it sounded like a brillant idea. I then dressed up, I went to the multiple adresses that I had found on a paper inside of the wallet and finally found hers

I mustered up my courage and tried to talk as naturaly as I could, and told her that I had come to celebrate christmas with her. She was seemingly happy as she embraced me, but, she then frowned as if she had noticed something, I started to get scared and urged her to go inside saying that it was cold outside and that we might get sick if we didn’t. She stopped frowning, started to smile again and nodded. Maybe she was just as lonely as I was and decided that celebrating christmas with a complete stranger was still better than doing it alone, I’m not really sure, but I didn’t really care either. It was nice that the food was already ready on the table. It was chicken.  I like chicken.

We sat down, and she asked me to slice it, but I couldn’t cut it with the butterknifes laying on the table, instead I just used my hands. She couldn’t be disgusted by something she couldn’t see, right ?

I then gave her some wine and poured some for myself and we merrily ate. After that, we sat on the couch and talked for a bit and she fell asleep. I silently got up, and started looking around for the magazine, since it originally was what I had come there to do. I couldn’t find it but instead I saw a camera on the table next to the couch. If I took it and gave back her grandson’s wallet, it wouldn’t be stealing right ? After thinking for a bit, I traded the camera for the wallet and stealthily left.

Sébastien/ J.Philippe

Christmas story

One day of December, like any other, I was in my shop in the 5th avenue, where the streets are full of life. When a man arrived in my shop and ran away with a newspaper. Even if a newspaper is not expensive, a robbery is a robbery, so I began to run after him. The place was crowded with people, who were in search of Christmas gifts. I had to stop because he was too far away. Unfortunatly the chance wasn’t with me that Saturday afternoon, but with the robber rather, who let his wallet fall. I took it. Then I decided to wait to be home to open it.

In the evening, at 10pm, after a productive day in the shop, I arrived in my house, and sat, smoking my 13th cigarette since the morning. I opened the wallet and found 3 photos, certainly of the robber when he was young. On one of the pictures there was a woman, who I guested was his mother, and behind I found an address. I hopped that it was his, because I would have liked to see him.

The next evening, I went to the address which was marked. I discovered just behind the door, that it wasn’t a man who lived in the apartment, but a woman who answered the name of « Miss Smith ». I supposed it was the mother of the man who had stolen the newspaper from me. The door opened, and an old woman appeared. I recognized her from the photo I had seen the day before. She hugged me as if we knew each other and I noticed that she was blind. I now think that she was waiting for her son. I told her I was Auggie Wren and that II was a friend of Michael’s, and her face changed but she invited me to come inside.  Everything was decorated for Christmas and a sweet smell floated in the air. I sat on the sofa, which seemed pretty old, and she gave me a drink. Then we talked a lot. She said that she hadn’t seen her son for 3 years, and he should have come that evening.

I was really sad for this adorable woman, so when she asked me to stay for dinner I accepted. Rather spend the Christmas Eve with her than alone.                                                       She had made turkey, which reminded me of my father who used to do the best. The knives didn’t cut well, so I used my hands, which I admit was not pretty polite.

At the end she fell asleep and I saw, just before leaving, on the table next to her, a camera. Am I a bad person if I say I took it ? Maybe, I still don’t know, but my intention wasn’t to rob her. Before going, I let the wallet, hopping that her son would come to see her soon.

Estelle et Evangeline