The Christmas Pen Part Four

by Donna Poole

“Aren’t you at least going to rinse the dinner dishes, Kat?” Mr. Ken asked.

She shook her head. “No time.”

She tried not to look impatient while he took his overcoat from the hall tree and put it on. His hands trembled over the buttons, and he nodded gratefully when she offered to button it for him. Then he knotted the red and green plaid scarf around his neck, tying it just so. And it seemed to take forever for him to pull on his leather gloves. Bent almost double, he tapped his gold tipped cane twice and smiled up at her.

“Aren’t you ready to go yet? What are we waiting for?”

Kathleen laughed. “Oh, Mr. Ken, some things are worth the wait. That’s what my grandpa always said.”

Ken almost fell when he slipped on the ice as they waited for a taxi. She caught him.

“Do you think a walker might be safer?”

“Maybe? Do they come with gold tips?”

Even in the cab he kept shivering. “Where are we going?” he asked, teeth chattering.

“I know you’d rather be under a warm blanket enjoying your Sunday afternoon nap, but I’m taking you for a Christmas surprise. Don’t ask questions.”

“Oh, Kat, old men are happiest at home. I don’t need anything I don’t already have there.”

“Don’t you, though?” she asked, giving him a mysterious smile.

He groaned when they pulled into the winding driveway of the Riverside Assisted Living and Memory Care.

“Kat! Just because I slipped on the ice once or twice! Have you arranged a tour here for me?”

She laughed. “It’s Christmas Day, remember? I don’t think they do tours on Christmas.”

“Then why are we here?”

“Just ride along with me.”

He gave her a sharp look.

“That couple I told you about who took me in when I was a tough street kid? Bill and Sheri? He used to say that to her when she tried to be a backseat driver. ‘Just ride along with me.’ She didn’t like it much. He knew it too. But they just looked at each other and laughed.”

Kathleen saw tears in his eyes behind his half glasses. He took off a leather glove, fished a handkerchief out of his pocket, and blew his nose.

“They were the kindest people God ever made, taking in a tough kid like me, giving me a place to live, and telling me about Jesus. I told them I’d never believe in Jesus, and I’m sure they thought I never did, after the way I left, stealing from them, and destroying Sheri’s Bible. I’d give anything to apologize and tell them they changed my life. But we don’t live looking in the rearview mirror. We aren’t going that way. Always go forward. You remember that Kat.”

“I will, Mr. Ken, but we can’t go anywhere if we don’t get out of this cab.”

The lobby was beautifully decorated, and a group of children was singing Christmas carols. Mr. Ken smiled and waved at them. Kathleen steered him down a hallway.

“Do we have to walk far?” he asked, leaning hard on her arm.

She shook her head. “Just a few doors.”

She stopped at a door decorated like a Christmas tree. It had a sign, “First prize for door decorating.” Ken looked for a name, but it was covered by the tree.

“Who are we going to see?” he asked.

She smiled and guided him inside.

“Grandma and Grandpa, I brought you a Christmas present.”

A tiny, fragile looking lady with white curls protested, “Kat, no gifts! You promised!”

A man Ken judged to be even older than himself chuckled. “You know our granddaughter, Sheri! She has a mind of her own, just like her grandma. So, what’s the present, kiddo? Let’s have it. I hope it’s chocolate!”

“Bill!” The old lady laughed. “You’re incorrigible! And you probably should let Kat introduce her guest before you start begging for candy.”

Bill? Sheri?

It couldn’t be. Ken’s mind struggled to keep up.

Kathleen led him closer to the older couple. “Grandma and Grandpa, this is my dear friend, Mr. Ken. He’s a retired pastor and an old friend of yours, but you knew him as Sam.”

She glanced at Ken’s face and lowered him into the armchair behind him just before he fell.

Sheri put one hand over her heart and struggled to catch her breath. “Bill! Honey? The scarf he’s wearing! It’s the gift I got you long ago, the one missing from under the tree when Sam left us on Christmas, the day we found my new Bible ripped apart and thrown under the tree…”

The angels congregated to hear the tears, laugher, and conversation that followed, and they whispered to each other, “Look. It’s another Christmas miracle.”

Two taps sounded on the door. Kathleen was the only one who heard it. She opened it and stared into the brilliant blue eyes of Johnny Dryden.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m the volunteer chaplain here. I come here every Sunday to get advice from Bill and Sheri, and they pray with me. What are you doing here?”

Kathleen’s grandpa hollered, “Hey, Johnny, come in! I want to introduce you to my granddaughter and tell you a story you aren’t going to believe!”

Johnny grinned. “I’ve already met your granddaughter, and I can’t wait to hear your story. He took Kathleen’s hand and guided her to a love seat under the window. They sat down, but he didn’t let go of her hand.

Kathleen’s grandma stared at her and raised an eyebrow. Kathleen shrugged.

“Young man, what are your intentions toward my granddaughter?”

Johnny looked at Kathleen and smiled. “To be determined.”

“Then perhaps you should let go of Kat’s hand while you work out the to be determined part.”

His face flushed. “Yes, ma’am.”

But he didn’t let go of her hand.

Kathleen laughed. So did her grandparents.

Mr. Ken said, “I’ve been expecting this.”

The three older people began reminiscing again.

Johnny said quietly, “I still want to get to know you, Kat Jones. What do you do in your spare time?”

“I’m writing a novel based on the years my grandparents spent at their country church.”

“I’d love to have you read it to me.”

“Maybe you could come for dinner sometimes. We could invite Mr. Ken too. He’s terribly lonely.”

He smiled. “I’d like that.”

Ken said, “My hearing’s pretty good for an old man. I better warn you, Johnny, she’s a terrible cook.”

“Yes,” Sheri said proudly, “she gets that from me.”

“I’ll bring takeout,” Johnny said.

“Wise decision,” Ken said, laughing.

“Oh, Grandpa, I almost forgot,” Kathleen said. “I want to show you how all this started.”

She tried to reach into her purse.

“Johnny, you’re going to have to let go of my hand.”

He flushed again.

Kathleen pulled out the antique red pen. “Mr. Ken fixed the pen you gave me.”

Ken nodded, pulled from his shirt pocket the pen that matched it, and showed it to Bill.

Bill’s eyes filled with tears. “You kept that pen I gave you all these years?”

Ken choked on the words. “I never forgot you. I kept the pen to remind myself of the man I was before your love and the love of Jesus changed me. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Forgive you? That happened on a long-ago Christmas afternoon when we got home from church, noticed the missing gifts, and saw the torn Bible under the tree. Sheri and I dropped to our knees and told God how much we loved you. We’ve prayed for ‘our Sam’ every day since.”

Kathleen went and hugged Ken who was crying. “It’s no wonder I loved you almost as soon as I met you. From the time I was a tiny girl, I’ve been praying for Grandma and Grandpa’s ‘Sam.’ And here we are, all together, because of the Christmas pen.”

Next, she hugged her grandpa. “Here,” she said, handing him the pen, “this belongs back with you, Grandpa. It’s a great reminder prayer can mend broken things. Even broken hearts.”

Kat sat on the loveseat and took Johnny’s hand. The sweet talk of the older ones flowed around them like a warm blanket until suddenly it became very quiet.

Johnny chuckled. “Look. They’re all sleeping. Do you think you should take Ken home so he can get a real nap?”

“I will soon,” she whispered, “but tell me. How did a Physician’s Assistant become a chaplain?”

“Well, I came here often to visit my grandpa who’s in heaven now. He was in the room next door, and one day I came into your grandparent’s room by mistake. Your grandpa was cleaning his collection of fountain pens, and I was intrigued. We got talking, and one thing led to another. He told me he’d been praying for someone to be a volunteer chaplain and. . . .”

The three old ones kept napping. The two younger ones kept talking. Outside the snow kept falling. And the angels kept listening to another Christmas miracle just beginning.