And The Angels Shall Sing

He looked nervously around. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable situation, no matter how wonderful the gesture was. He was the only male in the car, and most likely, the only male that would be at their destination. But, he knew he needed to be there. He knew it deep in his soul. No matter how uncomfortable he was, this is where he was supposed to be.

The women chatted about shopping for Christmas, and he sat back and listened. He smiled. His wife had already finished all their shopping and he was grateful she had been on top of things. From the sound of it, all three of his companions were going to be fighting the crowds for last minute shopping. Such insanity was not for him. He thought of all the things his children and wife were getting for Christmas. They didn't go crazy again this year, but the few things that were bought were very meaningful. His thoughts strayed to the stuff stashed in the trunk of the car.

Shampoo, curling irons, hair dryers, dresses, pants, make-up, dress shoes, hair clips and barrettes. Gift cards to grocery stores and retail stores. There were no frivolous items back there, just practical things most women wouldn't ask for when it comes to gifts. Well, except his wife. She was so weird. She's one of the only women he knew that asked for things like vacuum cleaners and frying pans for Christmas and her birthday. He chuckled to himself and closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes back up, they were pulling up to the large building that was their destination. His stomach tightened as he thought about his place in all of this. Yes, the company did this service every year and he was proud of his boss for remembering that the world needs superheroes in the form of everyday men and women who took the command to serve and support those with no where to go or no one to rely on, seriously.

They got out of the car and opened the trunk, each person withdrawing the gifts. Heavy laden, they turned and looked at the building. As if by telepathic intuition, the three women stepped behind the man and nodded to him to lead the way. He sighed, though tried to cover it. He wondered if the women realized just how hard this was going to be. Him, leading the way into that building.

He swallowed and stepped forward, his feet eventually carrying him to the door. A well dressed woman stepped out and opened the door for them. He passed through the door silently, keeping his eyes focused on the gifts in his hands and the walls. Still unsure that he should be there, he kept quiet. They were directed into a small room, where further instructions were given to lay out the gifts. He and the three women spread their gifts out over several tables, making sure they were completely visible.

Suddenly, children poured into the room. The man slipped back, trying to make himself invisible. He tried to press himself against the wall, as if trying to will his body to merge with it. The kids approached the table almost reverently, looking over each item with scrutiny. They picked them up, turning the item over in their hands, some consulting with another. A child may pick up one item, only to put it down later upon discovering something more suitable. There were no fights, not arguments. All was eerily calm.

The children really didn't pay the man any attention, but that was expected. He didn't want to interrupt this time, this experience. One by one, each child made a choice and moved to the other side of the room where several tables were set up with ribbon, tape, wrapping paper and tape. The women sat with the children and proceeded to help them wrap each gift. The gifts weren't wrapped in any kind of professional crispness, but they were wrapped in love. The man smiled as he watched. The children were happy, all was well with the world.

Once all the gifts were wrapped, the moms began to enter the room. They took their seats next to their children, looking at their little ones with such love...and a hint of heartbreak. The man silently gathered the scraps of paper, bits of ribbon and began to clean up and pack away the supplies. He stole glances at the mothers as they watched their children present their gifts with smiles and giggles. He smiled, hoping that the gifts were indeed enough for these brave mothers.

Slowly, each with the speed of a turtle, the mothers opened their gifts. The children squealed in impatience, tugging on their mother's arms to make them go faster. Small smiles crept across the adults' faces, some barely discernible, but they were there. The man kept packing away decorations and picking up trash. His quiet demeanor was not lost on them, but at this moment, he was of no consequence.

Soon, the joy of gift giving was over and there were hugs aplenty going around. The mothers thanked their children for their thoughtfulness, for their ability to get them just what they needed. Nodding, the man took note of the words used. Needed. Yes, they got what they needed, but will they ever get what they wanted? he thought.

Slowly everyone shuffled out of the room. The women that had accompanied him gave out hugs and tearful goodbyes, wishing the children a Merry Christmas and wishing the mothers some degree of peace. As the man swept the floor beneath the craft tables, herding tiny glitter particles into a dustpan, he felt the presence of several people around him. He turned slowly to see what was going on.

Before him stood a mother with two daughters and a son. Both daughters shied away from him, fearful of his glance. The boy watched him carefully, as if expecting something, though, the man had no idea what. He stood there, before this family, at a loss for words. He was fearful that anything he would say would sound shallow or fake, even though he would mean anything he said. He wanted to wish them a Merry Christmas. He wanted to wish them peace and hope.

The mother nodded to her daughters, turning their faces to look up at him. He could see one was bruised and it broke his heart; the other could barely look at him. Yet, the mother was forcing them to met his eyes. The son stood almost defiant as he glared at the man.

"Children, I want you to look at this man. I want you to look at him good and hard. I want you to notice that he came here, children, to do what other men would never have done for you... that your own father would never do. I want you to see that he worked the whole time, mindful of us, knowing that his presence here was painful for many of us. And I want you to sear this vision in your minds.

"There are a lot of bad men in the world. Many that will try to hurt you and some that will succeed. Some that will ask you to do that which I have taught you not to. But, my children, I want you to see that despite what you know now, what we've been through, there are men out there that are nothing like the nightmare that put us here. And that, my children, is my joy this season. I have been able to show you what a true man is like."

She turned her daughters toward her. "I want you to remember this day. Because one day, you will be faced with the decision to fall in love. I pray, when that day comes, you remember the humbled man who brought the gifts you gave, never asked for anything in return and quietly moved about his business out of respect for us. This, my beautiful daughters... This is the kind of man that I pray you find, love and marry. This man would never hurt you."

She hugged her son, wiping her tears. "And you, my beloved son. You have seen how a man should never, ever act towards a woman. Look on this man and see how he respects us even now. He stands tall before us, but with soft eyes. He works hard, without complaint or demand, for us. Look at the ring on his finger. He is married, maybe with children. Imagine how he treats his wife, or how he loves his children. You, son, be like him. Dream of being him."

She held onto her children in a hug that would rival a mother bear. Tears flowed freely down her face and the man felt his own begin. After a minute, she stood and looked him in the eyes. "I came to this shelter because I had no choice. I never wanted this life, not for my children. They have known nothing but pain for years. But I watched you. My son watched you, whether you knew or not. I leave this room, not as a mother with gifts, for God gave me my children. They are my gifts.

"I leave this room joyful, sir, because you have shown my children that what they have known is not what there is. My joy is knowing that perhaps this day, my daughters have seen a real man and my son someone to emulate. And now, sir, I can sleep peacefully tonight. And the angels will sing of joy, for they will hear my heart sing."

He stood there dumbfounded as she turned and walked away. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and he didn't attempt to stop them. As the family passed through the door, the daughter who had been hurt turned at the last minute and looked at him. He felt it pierce his soul. And in that moment, his heart sang.

And somewhere, in the spiritual realm, an Angel sang with Joy.