My family lived in a tiny apartment in Hoboken, New Jersey. Every December my mom spread the word to anyone alone on Christmas Eve that she would be having an open house. My mom believed that no one should be alone during the holidays. If she could, she probably would have put an advertisement in the paper inviting the world.
As it was, our tiny apartment was stuffed, every room but my bedroom filled with partying adults on Christmas Eve. Sleep was impossible, but I tried to fall asleep anyway because Santa would not leave gifts for children who were awake. As I lay in bed, I wondered how Santa would even know I was asleep amid all the laughter and how he could sneak in and leave gifts with all those people around.
The Christmas Eve Open-House tradition continued. When I was 8 years old, we moved to the suburb, where we got to live in a lovely, one-bedroom apartment. That first Christmas there, my mom invited anyone she met who she learned would be alone on Christmas Eve一neighbors, co-workers, shop girls, the postman...the list went on.
The next year, a new neighbor moved in next door. His name was George, and he was an older gentleman. He always nodded a greeting when he saw us. It was around Thanksgiving when we saw him park in his space near ours. We were bringing in groceries, and my mom asked him if he had plans for the.holiday. When he said no, and he would spend it alone, my mom mentioned her open house on Christmas Eve.
“Please join us,” I said. He was already shaking his head no.
“But mom’s apple pie is really inviting.”
“I won’t be good company, I’m afraid,” he said. “I lost my wife a few months ago.” His eyes were fill with tears and he turned away. “Thank you anyway!” he called. He went into his apartment and quickly closed the door.
注意:
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I felt a bit down and decided to do something.
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Our friendship began, and soon Christmas Eve arrived.
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