“Is it standing straight?” Dad huffed from under the Christmas tree.
“I think so…” Mom answered, hands on her hips as she eyed it from the other side of the room, “yeah, I think you’re good!”
“Finally,” Marcus muttered, his six-year-old toes tapping impatiently. He felt like he’d been waiting for days for everyone to be ready to decorate.
“Last ones,” Mayelle announced, strolling into the room with a big cardboard box balanced carefully on her hip. It had “ornaments” scrawled across the top in her tidy cursive.
Madeline trailed behind her big sister, wondering why she had to help get everything down from the attic when Marcus didn’t. He was only two years younger than her, and he was strong enough to pick up a box. Besides, he wasn’t allergic to dust like she was. But Mayelle had told her to help, and there was no point in arguing when Mayelle had made up her mind.
“Perfect,” Mom said, happily walking towards the kitchen, “I’ll go make the cocoa while you get started.”
“And I’ll go get cleaned up,” Dad added, sliding himself out from beneath the sticky sap of the tree after he tightened the screws in the base one last time.
He’d barely left the room when Marcus threw the lids from two of the decoration boxes so roughly his sisters could hear the clinking of the ornaments inside.
“Careful,” Mayelle warned him.
“Dibs on the star!!” Marcus exclaimed, rummaging haphazardly through the boxes as Mayelle winced on behalf of the fragile bulbs and decor inside.
“Not fair!” Madeline burst out, picturing that beautiful light-up star and how happy it felt to be lifted up on Dad’s shoulders to put it on top of the tree while Mom read from the Bible about the wise men finding Jesus under a shining star. “You did the star last year!”
“Well,” Mayelle interjected, standing extra straight as if being ten years old gave her the right to decide, “I’m the oldest, and the most careful, so…”
“But you did it the year before!” Madeline argued, certain Mayelle was going to play the oldest-sibling card to get her way, “remember? Because that was the year we got Sparky and you almost fell because he yipped and it startled you and…”
“I was gooooing to say,” Mayelle interrupted, blushing. “I’ll help Marcus with the star. He’s still little, so you know….”
“I know, I know,” Madeline grumped, seeing she wouldn’t win, “he’s the baby so he always gets what he wants.”
“Do not,” Marcus grouched right back, “if I did, I’d get to eat Christmas cookies for breakfast. And Mom won’t let me. So there.”
“Right,” Madeline replied, rolling her eyes as she gingerly plucked one of the boring silver bulbs from the top of the box to hang on the tree. She knew Marcus would move out of her way once he had found the star for the top of the tree. Then she could get to the good ornaments deeper down. Like the carolers ornament. She loved the group of singers all huddled together, with their little smiley open mouths and open songbooks and the dainty music notes dangling all around them.
*Ow*
She winced as the pine needles stung at her hands. They’d picked a different kind of pine tree that year – one with extra long needles because Marcus had said it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen. Madeline had wanted one with shorter, blue-green needles like usual. But no – Marcus always got what he wanted.
“Don’t forget to space out the bulbs,” Mayelle reminded Madeline in between her commands to Marcus to be careful.
“I know,” Madeline answered her older sister, rolling her eyes again. It wasn’t her first time decorating! She was eight years old, not two.
“I think I see the star!” Marcus exclaimed, rifling through another box as bits of glass and porcelain clinked together merrily but riskily.
Grabbing another boring silver bulb from the top of the box Marcus abandoned, Madeline hung it on the other side of the tree, deep in the branches. Mayelle wouldn’t be able to accuse her of bunching them together now. Plus, there’d still be prime spaces for the better ornaments – like the carolers – if she put the boring bulbs far back.
*OW*
Her whole arm stung and burned a little. What was in the sap?! She traded arms to use the one that wasn’t feeling all stinging already.
“Here!” Marcus yelled, holding high the light-up gold star for the top of the tree, its thin power cord dangling down to his feet. “Got it!”
“Good for you,” Madeline muttered, glancing down at her now-red hands and arms. They were very tingly from the strange sap. All because of Marcus, always getting his way. None of their other trees had been so stabby.
“Oh come on, Maddie,” Mayelle said in her most motherly, coaxing voice, “It’s Christmas, and he’s just a kid. And it’s Jesus’ birthday, remember? Jesus says to be nice. So just…have fun.”
Before Madeline could protest, Marcus exclaimed, “Yeah, have fun! Come on Maddie!”
He scooped up a silver bulb and tossed it at her, adding, “Catch!”
*CRASH*
The bulb shattered into bitty pieces at Madeline’s feet just as “Careful!” escaped Mayelle’s mouth.
“What was that?” Mom called out from the kitchen.
“Uh, we have a situation,” Mayelle answered responsibly, putting her hands on Marcus’ shoulders to hold him still. “Don’t move – it looks like glass!”
“What kind of situation?” Mom asked, her voice drawing nearer.
“The Marcus kind!” Madeline answered bitterly, frozen with her neck pressed up against one of those terrible stabby, burningly sappy branches.
“The…” Mom began, rounding the corner and letting the words trail off as she saw the mess. “Already?!”
“She didn’t catch,” Marcus shrugged from beneath Mayelle’s hands. As if the shattered ornament was Madeline’s fault!
“HE shouldn’t have thrown…” Madeline tried to argue.
Mom interrupted with a wave of her hand to shush them as she yelled over her shoulder and down the hallway to Dad, “Bring the broom, will you?”
“Already?” Dad asked, coming right on Mom’s heels as if he’d expected it…but he didn’t look happy about it.
“Hold still kids,” Mom said, taking the broom from Dad and beginning to clean up as he sighed behind her.
“We are holding still,” Mayelle assured Mom, her fingers digging into Marcus’s squirmy shoulder.
“We’re trying,” Madeline added, grunting and sighing as she struggled not to leap away from the pain of the tree she was still pressed against. She thought about jumping anyway, even if it meant possibly landing on shattered bits of glass. The needles were really hurting her!
“Come on, Maddie,” Mom said, in the same voice Mayelle had already tried, “it’s Christmas. Jesus’ birthday! Let’s not have an attitude, alright? Accidents happen.”
*SIGH*
Madeline wasn’t trying to have an attitude. She was trying to be fun and join in and not let it get to her that Marcus always got his way. But the stabby sappy tree he’d picked felt like it was getting under her skin, and having to stand there against it because he’d broken glass not-entirely-accidentally just made it all worse!
“There,” Dad said, laying a damp paper towel on the floor and patting up any microscopic pieces. Mom finished sweeping the visible ones into the dustpan.
“All set,” Mom confirmed, “you can step away now, Maddie, and we’ll start over more carefully and have fun together and….”
*UHHH*
Dad, Mom, Mayelle, and Marcus all made the sound at once. All while looking at Madeline. As if…as if…
“What?!” Madeline exclaimed, frozen to the spot with sudden fear. Was there something in the tree coming at her? An elf? A mouse? A SPIDER?!
“I think,” Mom stuttered, taking a deep breath and grimacing, “I think you might be allergic to that kind of tree…”
“What? Why?” Maddie asked, looking down at her hands.
They weren’t just red now.
…They were puffy.
They didn’t just sting now.
…They burned. Badly.
And so did her arms. And her neck. And her face!
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” she exclaimed, leaping away from the tree at last, right into her Mom’s arms.
“Oh you poor thing,” Mom said, gently putting her hand on Madeline’s back and leading her toward the bathroom. “We’ll take care of this. Does it hurt very badly?”
Madeline nodded as she sniffled away tears. She felt all the burn and sting of her new-found allergy on the outside, and on the inside, she felt all the burn and sting of how miserable Marcus had made her.
“My poor Maddie,” Mom murmured kindly, giving her a little pink pill to swallow as she gently wrapped her arms in cool, damp towels after rubbing on some special lotion. Some of the sting disappeared, but when Mom peeled back the towels to peek, Madeline’s skin was still red.
“It’s a little better,” Madeline said, beginning to notice the sounds coming from the living room. Ornaments were still clinking. Marcus’ always-busy feet were going to and fro. Dad was humming. Mayelle was bossing. She was missing out on the fun! “I think I can go do the tree now.”
“Oh Maddie, love,” Mom answered, shaking her head and grimacing, “you’re not going to get near that thing again. This is a bad allergy. We won’t be getting this type of tree anymore!”
“But,” Madeline argued, “but, I love decorating! And I didn’t get to put any of my favorites on! And…”
“I’m afraid you can’t,” Mom said softly, sighing sympathetically. “But you know we’ll do other decorating too…”
*Clink clink clink*
The sound of Marcus rummaging noisily through boxes of delicate ornaments echoed.
“It’s not fair!” Madeline burst out, “It’s all Marcus’ fault! Marcus took the star, and it’s supposed to be my year! And Marcus picked this terrible tree, so he took my decorating away! And, and…he’s always taking stuff away, getting his way, and…he ruined my Christmas!”
Tears as hot as her skin had felt minutes earlier rolled down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Maddie,” Mom said, wrapping her in a careful hug, “sometimes life isn’t fair. And sometimes little brothers take away things we hoped for – on purpose and on accident. But I really hope this doesn’t ruin your Christmas…”
Sucking in a deep, wheezy breath, Madeline buried her face deeper into Mom’s hug.
“I don’t know how my Christmas can not be ruined,” Madeline sighed.
“Well, you know what, love?” Mom asked, pulling away slightly so she could gently wipe the tears from Maddie’s cheeks with one of the cool, damp towels she hadn’t applied to her arms yet. “There are some things no one can take away or ruin and you can’t even be allergic to them. Those are the things that make Christmas really special.”
“Like presents?” Madeline asked. Even if Marcus did always get his way, she knew her parents wouldn’t let him steal her presents. And she’d never been allergic to a present before.
“I was thinking more of the good gifts God gives us,” Mom continued, her voice gentle and warm, “like….who did God give us as the best present ever on Christmas?”
Madeline grinned a tiny bit. She knew the answer, and just remembering it made her feel a little better.
“Jesus,” she said softly.
Mom nodded.
“Yeah,” Mom said, “Jesus. Our Savior! Christmas is his birthday, and we get to celebrate Him, right? And how good and kind He is, and how he gives us the free, amazing gift of life with God forever and ever. And Jesus loves us – no matter what! No one can take that away or ruin it for us.”
“Not even Marcus,” Madeline concluded, taking a deep breath.
“No one,” Mom assured her.
“Okay,” Madeline said, nodding and grinning again, “I guess Christmas isn’t ruined, since Jesus loves us no matter what.”
“Jesus even loves Marcus,” Mom told her teasingly.
“No matter what,” Madeline said, shaking her head as if she was disappointed. But she was smiling. She loved her brother, even if he did get on her nerves. And she was glad Jesus loved him, and loved her, and that no one could ruin that.
With her hands, arms, and neck wrapped in fresh, cool, damp towels, Madeline waddled out from the bathroom to the living room beside Mom once all her tears were dried and her heart felt peace again remembering Jesus and his love that even Marcus couldn’t wreck.
“Maddie, look!” Mayelle said, holding up the carolers ornament she loved the best. Their little smiley open mouths and open songbooks and the dainty music notes dangling all around them made her smile. “You tell me where to put it since you can’t! I’ll be your hands!”
“Thanks, Mayelle,” Madeline said, smiling wide and thanking God inside for her sister – she might be bossy sometimes, but she meant it lovingly. Madeline lifted a heavy, still slightly stinging arm to point.
“And Maddie?” Marcus added, his eyes wide as he gazed at her strange new wardrobe of damp towels wrapped everywhere they fit. “I won’t be your hands, because I might break things.”
“Thanks, Marcus,” Madeline answered, giggling, smiling wider, and thanking God even more inside. She extended her other heavy, wrapped arm to offer him a hug. “Want to get wet?”