Page 77 of A Miracle on Hope Street
‘Why on earth would you leave this city when you can do so much more?’ Michael had said to me when I told him of the offer on the house and my fading notion to move out and move on.
‘Look at you, Ruth Ryans!’ Gloria had said to me. ‘Look at how you light up when you do stuff for others. You are glowing! You know love at last and you don’t need to run away from anything any more. Embrace it! Set yourself a new challenge for that house. Make the most of the wonderful gift your father left you and do something that you both would be so proud of.’
And so Project Anthony was born in a bid to provide activities all year round for the lonely or those in need, with a big bash like this at Christmas to mark his anniversary.
Kelly does her Bake Off-style classes for all sorts of groups and individuals once a week, Nicholas is in charge of musical activities and he makes the most of every second he spends here to play his piano as loudly as he wants to; Molly hosts hair and beauty sessions that make women (and some men) who couldn’t otherwise afford it look, and feel, a million dollars. Marian is in her glory with her afternoon teas for senior citizens and she is like a new woman now with her new-found friends and has even taken up golf and walking again. And Sonia, from the hostel where Paul Connolly lived, makes sure that the people who live there get first go at all the services we provide here.
And this Christmas Day, Michael, my mother and I will host another Christmas dinner for seven new faces who I’ve carefully selected once more from my agony aunt column and who knows what the future with them will bring? Maybe they will jump on board here at Project Anthony too.
‘I got some more Christmas crackers because the kids in there just can’t get enough of them,’ Michael says to me when he arrives back from a trip to the shops with his trusty helper, Liam, who will also be on the team this Christmas Day.
‘We got ten more boxes,’ Liam says to me in disbelief, pretending to be out of breath, ‘Dad says I’m in charge of them in case the little ones get carried away.’
‘No better man for the job,’ I say to Liam and Michael agrees, ruffling his little boy’s hair.
My heart swells when I see the two of them together, which is happening a lot now and we can’t wait to get stuck into Christmas dinner prep as a forcible foursome after today. Michael and Liam really fit like hand in glove and Liam looks up to his daddy like he’s his superhero, which has brightened Michael’s life to no end.
Michael is my superhero too, I have to say, and I couldn’t run this place without him. Gloria wants him back and jokes that I have him on loan, of course, but I think we all know that will never happen anytime soon. We all get so much from this place and it can only go from strength to strength as we set out to cure loneliness and stamp it out at the root in this city. No one will ever be lonely here at Project Anthony. Everyone will be made welcome, and most of all, they will be given a role to play, and to me that’s the most important thing of all.
Loneliness, you see, is not always cured by simply being with another person like a lover or a friend, but is healed instead by a feeling and a sense of purpose that you are worthy and needed in this life, and that you are making a difference to others who need you. It’s a feeling that you are living your true worth and that you are making the most of your time here and not just existing and watching the world go by without you.
My mother and I are building our lives slowly but surely from a distance and that horrible recurring dream I used to have has stopped at last; and Michael makes sure that I always have someone to lean on, just as I do for him, plus he has Liam in his life again which is like all his Christmas wishes rolled into one.
I often recall that night on Hope Street and how a simple gesture planted a seed for what I am witnessing here today, in a house that I almost let go of, and I shudder at the thought of how I would have deprived so many of the happiness a day like today can bring if I’d sold up and run away from the people and place that, I’ve realised, gives memysense of purpose in life.
‘This is just marvellous,’ says Oonagh, the lady who looked after my father in his last days. ‘I brought Mabel down to get her hair done and a few others are in for afternoon tea. This is just what we all needed, Ruth. Well done to you all. It’s fantastic.’
Oonagh hugs me in a way of thanks and I take a moment to just imagine if we all reached out and touched people that little bit more and helped them find their purpose, not only with our hands but also with our hearts, how the magic of life might unfold before us, making us realise that kindness and compassion can heal the deepest and oldest of life’s many wounds.
It certainly helped to heal mine.
I hear Nicholas tune up and he rounds up the troops which tells me that it’s time for our debut carol service where young and old will sing together for the first time from the bottom of our hearts, filling these walls with music, hope and joy, and this is the moment we’ve all been waiting on since we opened our doors this morning for this Christmas celebration.
Marian slips out of the drawing room to stand beside me and I spot Kelly, who has her arm round Elsie, both of them in flour-covered aprons and surrounded by children from the bakery class who stand beside Sonia from the hostel. Nicholas is in full conductor mode, of course, and Michael and Liam stand beside my mother who was helping Marian with the tea, and little Liam, whose arms are full of Christmas crackers, holds a very smug look on his face with him being in charge and all. He likes to feel important, does Liam, and Michael and I are making sure he feels that always here. Jack Flowers slips in with young Marcus in his arms and Molly’s eyes light up when she sees her family come in to join her. Mabel and Oonagh stand side by side, then Margo tiptoes in to the back row and I spot Gloria and her husband Richard, who look back at me with glowing pride.
‘Ally!’ I exclaim, when I see my sister push through the door with David and the boys in tow. ‘I’m so glad you could make it!’
She’d been weather-watching all week to see if they could make the trip and I can’t believe they’re actually here!
‘We wouldn’t miss this for the world,’ my sister says, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek as her children run from her side.
‘Nonna!’ they squeal with delight as they greet my mum who stands with her arms open.
My eyes well up as I take it all in. This is Christmas. This is community. This is love.
The choir join in with the piano in a cacophony of sweet sounds as people like Mabel sing along with little children from the hostel. Ladies from a women’s charity are here too, in full song, as are the senior citizens group and a couple of teenagers from the youth club who dropped in, offering to help with some art projects in future.
I make my way over to Michael, Liam, Mum, my sister and her family and we stand together, listening to the music, then we join in and sing of angel’s voices and stars brightly shining. Liam’s eyes are shining too, excited for his sleepover here which has become a weekly occasion and one that Michael and I look forward to so much. He has his own bedroom next to ours on the top floor and he is settling in more and more every time he comes to stay.
The snow globe that Michael bought for me last Christmas catches my eye on the mantelpiece and the sight of it, and what it represents, fills me up inside. I stare into the dome-shaped snow globe, watching the thousands of tiny white flakes fall against a midnight-blue sky onto this house, a tiny replica of 41 Beech Row, with the light on in four of its windows to represent the family that once lived here.
Michael squeezes my shoulder and, just as he does, a tiny flutter moves in my belly and I put my hand there and almost let out a telltale gasp, then I look up at him and smile as we sing. There will soon be a family of four in this house again, with Michael, Liam, me and the little flutter I just felt inside which is growing more every day, but that’s our secret for now and I kind of like it that way.
‘I love you Ruth,’ Michael whispers, kissing my forehead and pulling me in closer, and he beams with pride as he watches his son sing out loud. ‘Happy Christmas.’
‘I love you too, Michael,’ I reply and then I notice that Gloria is watching us, wiping her eyes with tears of joy. Gloria was right as always. To love and be loved by a community of friends and family is the best feeling in the world.
The sound of everyone’s voices together as one is so haunting and I smile when I think of how my father would have loved to have heard it and how he’d have glowed at 41 Beech Row which is now not only home to Project Anthony, but is also now a family home again.
‘Happy Christmas, Daddy,’ I think to myself with glistening eyes. ‘Keep guiding me, please. You’re doing a really good job so far. I’ll never stop missing you, ever.’
I close my eyes as the house fills with music and let my tears fall in my father, Anthony Ryans’ sweet memory.
He always feared that I would be lonely, just like I did too when his loss left a gaping hole in my heart, but I am not lonely any more, and as I look around at the joy of Christmas in the house he took such pride in, I know that as long as I keep giving what I can, I will never have to worry about that ever again.
This is where I belong.
This is Christmas.
This is where my heart is, and the place I will always call home.
