The story was written for the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 1.

Summary:   When it comes to his family, Adam decides some things are more important than cattle and horses.

Rating:  G  – 3,750 words

“And it came to pass in those days that a decree went out from Caesar Augustus”

And it Came to Pass

~~by DJK 

 

And it came to pass one December eve that a boy knelt down to pray
And only the grave and the marble headstone were present to hear him say
God could you please take all of the grief which now our hearts do bear
Empty them, Lord, so there will be room for Christmas joy there

 

 Little Joe saw his older brother ride into the yard and dashed out of the barn door.

“Little Joe!”  Adam pulled Beauty to a sudden halt and dismounted.  The five-year-old had stopped immediately and stood watching his brother’s approach.  “You know better, little boy!” The declaration was frosty with admonishment.

Little Joe’s boot tip dug into the dirt.  “I stopped, Adam.”

Adam sighed as he lifted Little Joe and settled him on his hip.  “It would have been better if you hadn’t started.”  He watched the child’s lower lip tremble and shook his head.  “You have to keep safe, Little Joe.   You never run toward a moving horse.”  Adam felt Little Joe’s hold on his neck tighten.

“You were gone a long time. You and Pa both!  Where were you?”  Little Joe managed quite a demanding tone.

“There’s lots of work on a ranch.”  The generalization served as a truthful equivocation since Adam had no intention of telling his baby brother he had just come from his mother’s grave.  “Besides, Hoss was home with you.  Where is that brother of ours?”

“We’s doing chores in the barn.”  Adam set the boy down and followed him leading Beauty to his stall.

“Adam’s home!”

Hoss looked up and caught the glare Adam sent his way.  He ducked his head at the silent rebuke; he should have kept a better eye on Little Joe.  “Chores are about done.  I’ll see to Beauty for ya.”

“No need. Finish up, and we’ll go in together.  Pa said he’d thought he’d be home by supper.”

 

Barely a week until Christmas Eve, but the ranch house still was bare
Of any sign of the holidays, the decorations she always placed there
No pine-scented greens, no red festive bows, no garland, no angel, no star
The fire kept it warm, but it seemed less a home; her absence a shadow, a mar

 

The book on Roman history lay open in Adam’s lap, but Adam’s eyes had seldom settled on its printed words in the hour since the family had left the supper table.  He had studied both his father and his brothers instead.  Ben Cartwright was at his desk working on the ranch ledgers.  His brothers played checkers on the low table in front of the fireplace.  A casual observer would not have noticed anything amiss in the scene of a father and sons, well-fed and warm on a winter’s night, but Adam was well aware of the pain each of them carried and the emptiness his stepmother’s death had brought into the house.  They had all managed to go back to the normal motions demanded by each day, but pain and anger and dread and fear, yes fear, lay beneath the surface and in the eyes of each of them, even Little Joe.  The little boy clung too tightly to his father and older brothers, and though his nightmares had lessened his frequent giggles had failed to truly reappear.  Adam closed his book and set it on the table beside his chair.  He leaned forward and stared into the flames.  Could he leave in the spring as he had long planned?  Was part of his own dread was the fear of never having his dream of a college education?  Marie had encouraged that dream.  His Pa had insisted that he should still follow the path he had planned, but …his brothers, Hoss and Little Joe; should he leave them; could he go?

Adam felt his little brother crawl into his lap.  “Adam?”  The whisper entered his ear on the child’s warm breath.

“What Little Joe?”

“We ain’t… we ain’t written to Santa.  I guess… I guess it ain’t no use this year.”

Adam pulled the child into his arms.  “Why would you say that?”

The whisper grew fainter as Little Joe buried his face in his brother’s chest.  “ ‘Cause what we all really want Santa can’t bring.”  Adam’s arms tightened, pulling the boy to his heart.  “Even Santa can’t; can he, Adam?”  The yearning for a denial, for an affirmation that Santa had enough magic for even that, was clear.  Adam bit his lip and buried his face in Little Joe’s curls.

“No, he can’t, little buddy.  I… I wish he could, but like Pa told you…”

“I know.  Nobody can come back from heaven; we have to wait ‘til we go there.”

Adam rubbed Little Joe’s back.  “And when we do…”  He cleared his throat. “Now won’t it be so fine.”  Minutes passed, and then Adam drew Little Joe’s face away from his chest.  “But you’re right, Little Joe.  Santa needs your lists, and tomorrow you and Hoss…”

“And you!”

Adam rolled his eyes, which only Hoss saw, and agreed.  “And me.  We’ll get paper from Pa’s desk and write out our lists.  Should we make Pa write one too?”

“Yes!” Little Joe’s eyes brightened, and this time Hoss rolled his eyes.

“Tomorrow then!  But right now, it’s time for two boys to head to bed.”

“Awww, Adam.”  The exclamation arrived at two different octaves.

“Your brother’s right.  To bed with the both of you.”  Ben Cartwright’s order sent both of his sons up the stairs.  Adam chewed his lower lip and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  Then he slapped his knees with both his hands, rose, and followed his brothers.

 

The presents were brought and the larder was full; these things his father could give
But Pa had no joy within him to share; it was beyond him to do more than live
If he wanted to see his brothers’ eyes shine, one simple fact would be true
I have to be the hands of God; each small thing I can I shall do

 

 “Adam!  What are you doing?”

Glancing over his shoulder to see his pa had entered the room; Adam turned, swallowed, and then answered.  “Decorating the mantle.” He ran his hands down his pants and cleared his throat.  “I took the boys to get a tree today.  It’s in a bucket on the back porch.  We’re going to decorate it tomorrow.”

“You did?”  Adam could not quite read his father’s expression.

“Yes, sir.  I… I know all my work didn’t get done, but, well, I thought this was more important.”

“You did, did you?”

“Yes, sir.”  He drew in a deep breath.  “If you’re angry, you should only be angry with me.”

Ben studied his eldest son and then sighed.  “I’m not angry.  I… I’m…”  Ben closed the distance between himself and his son.  “It was more important.”  He placed his hand on Adam’s shoulder.  “Do… do whatever you think is more important.  I can see that anything the ranch needs gets done.”  He squeezed his son’s shoulder.  “Are the boys already in bed?”

Adam nodded. “I don’t think they’re asleep yet.”

“I’ll go up and say good night then.”

Adam watched as his father slowly mounted the stairs and then turned back to placing red bows among the pine branches he had laid on the mantle.

 

The attic held boxes of things that had come to mean Christmas to each one of them
An angel with gold hair, a silvery star, red velvet skirt white fur on its hem,
Colored glass baubles and crudely carved figures, treasures from so many years
They managed to place them, to speak of each one, to laugh, and to hold back the tears

 

Adam lifted the lid of the last box and stared at the figurines inside.  Marie’s crèche had come with her grandfather from France and then with Marie from New Orleans.  It was invaluable and fragile, so none of the boys’ hands had ever held any of the figures, not even Adam’s.  His hand shook slightly has he reached for one of the sheep.

“Adam, no!”

“No! You can’t touch!”

The boys’ cries stilled Adam’s hand.  He looked up into his brothers’ faces.  Then he cleared his throat.

“I’ll be careful.  It wouldn’t be a proper Christmas without the crèche.”

Hoss chewed his lower lip.  “Maybe we should wait and let Pa…”

Adam caught Hoss’s eyes with his own.  “Pa… Pa has plenty of other things to do.  I’m long passed fumbling fingers and dropping things, brother.”

“Yea, Hoss, we…”  Little Joe’s hand moved toward the box.

“No.  You are still at the dropping stage, so I, not we, will set out the crèche.”  Adam watched Little Joe’s lower lip slip outward.  “You can remind me where things go.  You and Hoss.”

“So we get things just right.”  Little Joe’s voice had taken on a certain brightness that encouraged Adam to continue.

“Now, let’s see. We’ll start with Joseph.”  He lifted the figure from the velvet cushioning of the special box.  He carefully set it exactly where Little Joe’s finger pointed.

“Turn him more toward me, just a little.” Adam followed Hoss’s instruction. One by one Mary, the manger, four shepherds, six sheep, three Magi, and a camel for each were set out with precision.  Even an angel was carefully hung from the eaves’ peak on the wooden stable Adam had made at thirteen.  Only the baby Jesus remained in the box.  Adam sat back and closed the lid.  By tradition the placing of the Holy Child into the manger was Marie’s last act of Christmas Eve after everyone else was in bed.  The first thing that the boys did each Christmas morning was check the manger for the appearance of Jesus in their home.  “There.  Now it’s just as it should be.”

“It’s perfect.”  Hoss nodded in satisfaction. Little Joe plopped into Adam’s lap.  “Now we’s all ready for Christmas.  How many days is it?”

“There’s tomorrow…”  Adam let one finger straighten from his fisted hand.  “The day after tomorrow…”  Another finger was extended. “The day after that…” One more finger followed.  “Then it’s Christmas Eve and …” Another finger and another, the final one being greeted with a shout by both Hoss and Joe.

“CHRISTMAS!”

“Yes, Christmas.  Now count, Little Joe, and you’ll have your answer.”

Little Joe used his own fingers to curl back his brother’s as he counted. “One, two, three, four, FIVE.  Christmas is the fifth day.”

“Right!” Hoss beamed at his younger brother and then declared Joe was as smart as a whip.  “Hop Sing saved some cookies from the tree.  He said we could eat them when we was done.”

“So he did.”  Adam rose snatching his Little Joe up and tossing him over his shoulder.  “I’ll even make us some hot chocolate to go with them.”

Two cheers greeted his suggestion, as Hoss scrambled to follow.  Upon arriving in the kitchen, they found that Hop Sing had already prepared not only the cookies but the hot chocolate as well.  When Ben entered the house, he stopped and drew in a deep breath at the sight of the decorations.  He turned his head and gazed toward the stairs as if he expected his wife to descend them.  As it registered yet again that she never would, he let out a slow breath to control the sudden pain.  Then he heard the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen.  His boys were laughing.  For a moment he hesitated, but then he swallowed, swallowed again, and walked toward the kitchen.

 

 The next day included an act of tradition, as did each day that was to come after
One by one, though some were quite small, each gave a measure of joy and bright laughter
The shadows receded in soft candlelight, and music filled both silence and soul
Her absence was still a large gaping tear, but each giggle was darning the hole

 

Little Joe leaned over to watch the porridge that Adam was stirring.  “Hoss, you got the butter ready?”  He had taken a seat on the sideboard next to the stove in order to have a clear view of all the proceedings.

“Of course I do, and in the red bowl too.”

“Well, I think this is done.”  Adam gave the mixture a final stir.  “Lean back, Little Joe, I don’t want you to get burned.”  He lifted the pan from the stove and turned toward Hoss.  Carefully the porridge was poured into the proper bowl over an overly large pat of fresh butter. “Now set it on the table to cool.  We’ll put it out for the barn elf when the sun goes down.”

“So he don’t get aggravated and persnickety and do no mischief this coming year!”  Hoss took it upon himself to state the proper explanation as he had each year since Adam had explained their mama’s tradition to the four-year-old Hoss.

Adam tugged one of Little Joe’s curls.  “We’ll leave all of the mischief to this one.  He gives us more than we need to handle.”

“Adam.”  The name was drawn out and wailed in childish indignation.  “I’s not the only one!”

Adam just smiled and lifted the little boy from his perch.  “That’s the last thing to be done before we get bathed and dressed to go to services.”

“I don’t need no bath!”  Little Joe’s declaration contained more indignation.

“I don’t need to wear a tie, do I?”  Hoss’s inquiry was hopeful even though he knew that a tie would be required.

“You do.”  Adam let his order cover both his brothers’ concerns and proceeded to see that the boys were clean and properly dressed by the appointed hour of departure.

 

From a trip to the church to the singing of carols, the family’s pattern for God’s holy night
Was followed precisely and ever so nicely; Adam saw that each part was done right
Stockings were hung; the eggnog they drank; the tree with candles did glow
Pa read the story of salvation’s birth, so the season’s true meaning they’d know

 

Adam set down his guitar as the last chord of Ben’s favorite carol echoed in the air.  He looked at his father and announced, “It’s after twelve.”

“Nearer to one.  So all of you are headed to bed.”

“But…” Hoss got out only one word before his father stood.

“Now, boys.”  Ben’s voice was stern, but he tempered his tone with a smile.  “If Santa sees you up, he just might pass us by all together.”

Hoss dropped his head before he rolled his eyes.  Little Joe, on the other hand, stood and darted toward the stairs.  “Come on, Hoss. Come on, Adam.”

After the two younger boys were settled and asleep, Adam helped his father bring Santa’s presents from their hiding places.  Together they filled the stockings and set the larger things around the base of the tree or in its branches.  Then they managed to eat the cookies and drink the milk left for the jolly old elf, though the carrots for his reindeer were simply placed in Ben’s pocket to be used as Buck’s treat the next day.  After the candles on the tree were carefully extinguished, Ben placed his arm around his eldest son’s shoulders.

“You…  I don’t know what your brothers and I would have done without you.”  Adam blushed and ducked his head.  “Not just now for the holidays, but ever since… well, I’m so proud of you.”  He pulled Adam to his chest; his whisper just reached Adam’s ear. “She would be so proud of you too.”

Adam slipped his arms around his father.  “She’s… I think she’s here with us, just like Mama and my mother.”  He straightened and let his arms fall to his sides.  “Though I do think Heaven should notice that there’s enough angels watching this house.” There was just enough light for him to see his father’s eyes cloud.  “I didn’t…I am sorry, Pa.”

“No need to be, no need at all.”  Ben placed his arm once again around Adam’s shoulders, and together they walked up the stairs.

 

His brothers smiled as they dreamed and Adam in his bed
Heard only the words of his father’s praise repeating again in his head
They slumbered in darkness awaiting the morn and the Christmas they all would share
Forgetting the fact that still in the crèche a tiny manger lay bare

 

 “It’s Christmas!  It’s Christmas!”

Adam heard Little Joe’s shouts and the clatter of his boots on the stairs.  He turned over in his bed and sighed.  It appeared he would be getting up now. He sighed again and then smiled.  He wanted to see the joy on the boys’ faces when they saw the Christmas treasure he and his pa had set out the night before.  He pictured the two boys racing down the stairs- he had also been able to distinguish the sound of Hoss’s footsteps passing his door- and going to the crèche. He sat up with a gasp. Shooting out of bed, he raced barefooted after his brothers.

“Look, look, Hoss.  The baby Jesus is in the manger.”  Little Joe stood peering down at the crèche.

“And his love shall bless our home throughout the coming year.” Hoss put his arm around little Joe’s waist pulling the child to him and then glanced over his shoulder at Adam.  Marie had stated those words each Christmas that she had spent in their house.

“Amen.”  Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe spoke in unison and heard their father’s voice in a rich echo.

“Now the stockings!”  Little Joe darted to the hearth with Hoss following.

“Wait, wait, I’ll hand them down.”  Adam strode after his brothers, and the Cartwright family proceeded with the traditional emptying of the stockings and opening of the presents.  Hop Sing then called them to the table for Christmas breakfast.  Adam felt a lump grow in his throat as he saw the plate of beignets; Hop Sing had prepared the sweets that Marie had always prepared for breakfast on birthdays and holidays.  He swallowed and joined his family.  He managed to eat three beignets, just one short of his all-time record, along with the fried potatoes and ham omelets.

It was not until they had shared the traditional Christmas feast with all of the ranch hands that things quieted, and Adam was able to approach his father privately.

“Thank you, Pa, for remembering to put the baby in the manger.  If you hadn’t…”

Adam saw his pa shake his head.  “But I didn’t.  I thought you did.”

“I, I forgot, but who?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe Hoss got up earlier.”  Ben shook his head.  “I don’t know.”

“Hoss, I guess, well, it must have been.  He’s done a lot of growing up.”

Old Ned walked up then and spoke to Ben.   Later, seeing that Little Joe had fallen asleep on the settee, Adam motioned to Hoss to come over to him.

“Hoss, ummm, did you, if you were up early this morning before Little Joe say, well, did you, did you put the baby in the manager?”

Hoss’s eyes widened, and he shook his head slowly.  “I wouldn’t never risk breaking the baby Jesus, Adam.”

“So you didn’t?”

“No, iffen it wasn’t you, it musta been Pa.  I just hope, well, I hope it wasn’t too hard on him.”  Hoss had spoken with Adam several times about the depth of their father’s grief.

Adam smiled and patted his brother’s shoulder.  “I think, well, I think things have been a bit better for Pa these past days.”

Hoss nodded.  “I was feared that Christmas, well, that maybe, but it’s been nice, Adam, don’t you think?”

“Real nice.  I think it’s been real nice.”

“Yeah, real nice.” Hoss looked into his brother’s eyes.   “Thank you, elder brother.”

“You’re most welcome, little brother.”  Hoss smiled and gave Adam a slight shove just to make a point about how little he no longer was.

As Hoss walked away, Adam pondered how the baby Jesus had found his way into the manger if his Pa, Hoss, himself, and obviously Little Joe had not placed the figurine there.  Then a clattering in the kitchen drew his attention.

“Hop Sing, may I ask you something?”

“What you need?”

“I don’t need anything; well, except to thank you for everything you did to make this Christmas a happy one.”

“Hop Sing do what Hop Sing pleased to do.”

“Umm, did you… did you put the figure of the baby in the crèche.”

“Missy Marie would want baby in manger in morning, Hop Sing up early.  Hop Sing do what Missy Marie would want.”

“I’m very grateful that you did.  The boys would have been so hurt to find it empty.  I, I don’t know how I could forget.”

“Mister Adam have much to remember; all men need help some time.”

“But I…”

“You did much has you could.  Hop Sing do what he could.  He make what always made with all mothers’ recipes, he pop corn to string, he eat cold porridge from red bowl, he pray to ancestors for better year for all boys.  He ask for safe journey for eldest son and much knowledge to come to him at college.  Hop Sing do what pleases him; he see to his Cartwrights.”

“I don’t know if …”

“You go college and no worry.  Father not have to do alone.  Hop Sing here; Old Ned here.  Other friends help.  Boys be fine until you come back with great knowledge.  You go make ancestors proud.”  Hop Sing saw the dimples on Adam’s face grow deeper than they had since Marie’s passing.

“I… thank you, Hop Sing.”  Adam straightened and then bowed from the waist.  Hop Sing returned the bow.  It was not until much later that it occurred to Adam that Hop Sing had called him Mister Adam.

 

The boy had prayed for grief to go and though it was not all gone
Love had brought them joy again; the family would carry on
And it came to pass on that Christmas Day three souls in heaven shown
Brighter with pride in the boy they all loved and in the man into whom he had grown

---

~*~*~A blessed Christmas to everyone!~*~*~

 

Link to the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 2 – Of Winters Past… by BluewindFarm

 

Tags:  Adam Cartwright, Ben Cartwright, Hoss Cartwright, Old Ned