Page 75 of All I Want for Christmas… Is You
“Whoareyou?”
It’s never too late to change the way you look at the world and the way you see others. It’s never too late to let your heart be softened, to forgive those who have wronged you, to try to understand and empathize instead of clinging to your anger, your resentment. What have they brought you, besides pain? Loneliness? You have a choice. And when you make that choice and follow the road that you struck out on tonight, you will see, Katharine, your life change in ways that will take your breath away.
In the darkness, the face of Mr. O’ Flaherty began to take shape. He with the deep, dark eyes full of the wisdom of the ages even though his mouth carried the smile of a rogue, he who had the dignity of a prince but the clothes of a beggar.
There, that voice again.
It’s Christmas Eve. And what is Christmas but the celebration of a birth, not just my birth, but the birth of what my coming represents ... peace and hope and love, not just for others and all of Creation, but for yourself. Perhaps it’s a birth for you, too. Follow me, Katharine, and you will find the peace that you’ve sought for so long. Follow me, and your life will bloom with hope instead of defeat and despair. Follow me, and I will show you the very deepest sort of joy.
“Mr. ...O’ Flaherty?” Confused, she stared into the darkness, trying to make sense of what she was seeing, hearing, as she trembled with awe and disbelief. “Are you ... are you—?”
“I was a stranger, and ye took me in.... Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”
“What?”
Hear me, Katharine.The voice surrounded her, permeating her like the cold had done but with a rich, abiding love, a love so deep and mysterious that she could only huddle in its presence and wipe frantically at the tears now streaming down her cheeks.Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
The least of my brethren.
A highwayman. A robber. A stranger, from out of the cold.
Ye have done it unto me.
She threw off the dream and bolted upright in the darkness, her heart pounding her ribs like a hammer against glass, her breath rushing through her lungs in great silent gulps, the tears still wet upon her cheeks. The room lay in darkness around her, still and silent, the sleet still tinkling against the window outside. Frantically, her eyes searched the gloom. He’d beenhere.Right here!But that beautiful face with the eyes full of ancient love was not there. The room was empty. She had dreamed it all.
Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
Somewhere out in another part of the house, a clock began to toll out the hour. Twelve solemn strokes, one after another ringing through the darkness.
It was Christmas morning.
CHAPTER6
The pain woke him.
That, and the sudden knowledge that he was no longer alone.
Had Lady Katharine returned with something to bind his ribs? Was a servant in the room, tending to the fire? A dog or a cat, even?
Grimacing with pain, Noel pushed himself toward the headboard, pulled the covers up over his chest to contain the warmth, and blinked away the sleep.
It was Lady Katharine. She stood just inside the doorway, staring at him in an odd and frankly disturbing way. The candle she’d left for him had burned out, and the light from the hearth flickered against her face.
Noel sat up a little straighter. She was so beautiful that he forgot how much pain he was in.
“Are you ... Him?” she asked in a breathy, awed, somewhat frightened whisper.
He grinned. “Aye, last I checked.”
“Oh, my God. I mean, Lord. That is to say, heavens. Oh! I don’t know how I’m supposed to talk to you!”
Noel’s cocky smile faded just a little and he looked at her narrowly. “Well, you’ve made a good start, though I hope you know what time it is.”
“It’s Christmas! Your birthday!”
He stared at her. How the devil could she know that it was his birthday?
“And here I thought I was dreaming. I’m not, though, am I? Oh, I’m so excited ... that seems like such a trivial thing to say, but I really don’t know how to address you, how to comport myself, what to say to you.”
